


Wayward Flames, Come on Home

by InnogenRenz



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Also known as: A bunch of them see a traumitized kid and vibe with it, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Azula has Issues, Because of the propaganda, Bro I don't know how engines work bear with me, But then it gets BIG, Discussed as part of war crimes, Dragon Descendant Zuko, Drinking, Gratuitous use of the f-bomb, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Just Zuko making friends with the crew, LGBTQ Themes, Listen I'm not going to write in homophobia when half of my OCs are queer, Listen the spirits are kind of dicks, Listen they get better but they dont start off great, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentioned not comitted, Multi, Nor transphobia, OKAY THERE WILL BE DEFINITE CANON DIVERGENCE JUST WAIT, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Platonic Slowburn, Pre-Canon, Probably not LoK compliant, Propaganda, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Racism, Referenced Animal Abuse, She and zuko have a very complicated relationship, Spirits, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Uhhh not comic canon compliant, Unlearning imperialist ideology and making friends along the way!, Wani Crew - Freeform, War Crimes, Zhao (Avatar) Is An Asshole, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, no beta we die like men, they accidentally become spirit experts and help restore balance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 97,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnogenRenz/pseuds/InnogenRenz
Summary: Prince Zuko is banished, given an old warship, a subpar crew, and is stuck with his tea-loving uncle. Three years of searching for a long dead myth and causing problems is all it takes for his crew unwittingly forms bonds with each other and their stubborn charge. The more they try and get used to living with each other, the more things change in a world they didn't know could. Things happen, and, well, they might just become legends. Slight AU.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Jee & Zuko (Avatar), Original Character/Original Character, Zuko & Zuko's Crew (Avatar)
Comments: 377
Kudos: 662





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I watched A:TLA for the first time once it appeared on Netflix, and it was down the rabbit hole from there. This is going to be a pretty long fic if I keep going with all my ideas, and keep my motivation, but enjoy! My [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/innogens-breadsticks) is there! Feel free to interact or send asks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey this is the first chapter and I'm just really pumped! My [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/innogens-breadsticks) is @Innogens-breadsticks, and thanks!

The sky was a brutish shade of grey, blanketing the port in a solemn, misty cover. Hidden behind the thick, dark, rolling clouds, the sun refused to grace the port with any sort of warmth. Drizzling drops of rain dashed down and splattered all it could, leaving nothing untouched or not thoroughly soaked, the wood of the docks became unbearably slick within minutes.

Usually, being scorned by Agni himself was enough to make almost anyone pause and give thought to their actions. But all anyone could spare this day was a doleful look at the sky, a silent plea for just one small drop of sunlight. Their muted prayers weren't answered, whether by the fact a deity couldn't be contacted in such a way, or that they were simply being ignored. There wasn't much comfort in either idea.

With the measured steps of men sent off to execution, soldiers scattered in the port below had come together, carrying various crates or leading some particularly nasty Kommodo-Rhinos away from where they had been unloaded. Lines of people led to a small, slightly discolored, metal ship that had docked that morning. From afar, two still figures carefully took in the sight.

"We should be ready to depart within the hour, nephew." The older man relayed, eyes firmly placed on the horizon, keeping an umbrella raised above them both.

The boy beside him nodded only once so as not to disturb the bandages wrapped around half of his face.

Thirteen years old and freshly banished, he had until sundown to depart from his home and begin his search. Prince Zuko could barely bring himself to speak, much less worry about organizing a warship, stocked with soldiers in the same predicament as him. But he should've been, it was his responsibility, his punishment, _he_ was the one being cast out. Yet, his uncle stood next to him, having called upon many favors to acquire troops, food, and a vessel. Doing everything that Zuko was supposed to have done, without half as much yelling as he would've used.

Usually, a silent, toothy grin from his uncle was all it took for one or two old generals to cave, despite his newly acquired hobby of peace, a dragon was still a dragon. A wicked sharp mind, and even sharper claws, the Dragon of the West was to be feared, perhaps as much as the Firelord himself. It was an unspoken thought, with treason woven so deeply in it, it was safer that the words were best left alone

For all his reputation seemed to give him, Zuko had difficulty seeing the man as anything more than a consistent, tea-offering presence in his more recent life. He had faded memories of the old general when he had been younger, laughing and playing with his older cousin. Of course there were the years that both of them had gone, their absences filled by hours of tutors, Azula's constant schemes, his father's harsh glare, and even more cutting words. But once Iroh had returned, as reserved and subdued as he was, (which Zuko could find no fault in, the man had lost his son so he really didn't understand why Azula and father would scorn him as they did) it was almost a… reprieve for the young prince.

It shouldn't have been, but it was. At every mistake there were kind words, and thoughtful offerings of nonsense proverbs, instead of burns and begging and flinching. The flinching always made his uncle briefly pause, and breathe very slowly and deeply, the briefest of steel clashing in his eyes. Afterwards, he always offered to feed the turtleducks with Zuko, something the young prince had come to appreciate.

It wasn't like having his mother back, not at all. She was all kind, hushed words and gentle advice hidden in whispers, far away from his father. It had taken him years to notice how pained and silent she was in the presence of his father, and even longer to notice how distant she seemed from Azula. It was as if a silent agreement had been reached, that Zuko was hers, and Azula was _his_. But once she was gone Zuko was nobody's and then his uncle had come, and it had been better, at first. But the pain of lost family tends to weigh down the bearer, and uncle wasn't perfect, nobody was, and so everything went wrong.

He could feel the leaking from the burn, and how it stuck to the cloth wrapping, eventually it would harden and he'd have to rip it off and go through one more moment of horrid pain. It was like being back at that… arena, all over again. If anything even went _near_ that accursed mark, much less touch it, he was stuck at his father's feet once again, crying for mercy. Hot, sticky tears trailing down his face and chin, trembling and begging any spirit that would listen for understanding and mercy, as his father's hand almost gently cupped his face and began _searing it off_ \- But it was his own fault, and that was a fact he'd accepted.

Yet, standing here, as his watery prison defied the natural order by continuing to float, he had no time to mourn all he had lost. Stretching his face into a scowl, (and refusing to flinch as the burn stretched with it) he clenched his fist. He would return, victorious, with the Avatar in hand, and drop him at his father's feet. The Fire Nation would be safely secured and his honor would be restored, and once again, he could stand tall in front of his family.

He wasn't sure when he had begun marching away from his uncle, the concerned words of the older man being drowned out by his own stomps and the sound of rain falling, but he was already halfway down the steps of the hill they'd been waiting on. Once he realized it, there was no point in stopping, so he continued on his path that seemed to point towards the ship, ignoring every look that came his way.

With his hair freshly shaved away - not the top knot, _never_ the top knot - as a sign of his shameful defeat (and so it couldn't get in the way of his burn), and those stupid, itchy bandages covering half of his Koh-damned face, it didn't take much thinking to realize what the people had shown such interest in. Barreling his way past soldiers, who really did try to not give more than one glance his way, he was well aware of his uncle jogging behind him to try and catch up.

"Prince Zuko, a moment!" Iroh called out, unaware of the momentary wince the boy had reacted with at the sound of his full title.

Stopping in his tracks, and turning harshly on his heel, the prince in question spat, "What?", with as much annoyance as he could manage.

Breathing heavily, Iroh slowed to a halt next to his nephew, once again raising the umbrella over the now soaked prince, "The first order of business you must attend to is paying a visit to the ship's doctor, and then, introductions to the crew must be made."

"I don't need a doctor." Zuko seethed, crossing his arms, "And why in the world would I bother introducing myself to people who already know their mission?"

Now _that_ was the great lie that had been decided upon. Calling it an assignment, a military necessity. It was obvious anyone on this crew was most likely just as banished as him. Except for his uncle.

"With all due respect, my nephew," Iroh gently contradicted, "if you do not continue treating your… wound, there is a larger chance of permanent damage." Iroh sighed before continuing, "And it's quite rude to show such attitude towards people now under your command and care."

"And we're all just thrilled with that." Zuko muttered under his breath, briefly turning away, "Whatever damage occurs is deserved, it would be disrespectful to temper it."

That had been his mistake before, it wasn't one he could afford to make towards his father again.

Iroh took in a deep breath, face barely staying neutral, "This has nothing to do with respect, Prince Zuko. This is about health and safety, your eye could be lost if you continue refusing medical attention."

"Then so be it." Zuko replied, mustering all the venom in him to put a stop to this annoying conversation.

"No." Iroh said, a stern look providing a shield from Zuko's words, "If you lose an eye, you will have to relearn and readjust to everything, bitter months will be lost in the process."

The boy gave thought to it, months getting used to being halfblind were months spent not looking for the Avatar. They would be months without the palace, without his stubborn masters, without his… honor. For all that it was worth. Uncle did have a point, even if he did deserve it, it would be much more efficient to get his wound looked at.

"...alright." Zuko finally agreed, however tentatively.

Iroh broke out into a controlled smile, "Ah, wonderful! We mustn't keep him in suspense for too long."

Nodding, the boy let him pass onto the ramp leading to the deck of the ship. Pausing briefly, Zuko looked at the soldiers who had stopped to watch the exchange like cheap entertainment. Deciding to set the tone for the rest of the trip, Zuko spun on his heel, ignoring the squeak that had come with the rubber of his sole grinding against the slick metal beneath him, and began shouting.

"GET BACK TO WORK!" Seemed to suffice.

Apparently, the shock that came with being yelled at by a thirteen-year-old was accompanied by an increase in productivity. Something Zuko gladly noted in his mind. Satisfied with the outcome, he turned once again and began following his uncle. However humiliating his punishment may be, he would return victorious, if only for the reason of pleasing his father.

* * *

"Can you remove the wrapping?"

Zuko almost snorted. Of course he could. But the healer made no more attempts to remove the bandages once Zuko had (flinched as all he could see was a hand reaching for his face and while this one didn't have fire it would still _hurt_ , he knew it would, it always did-) turned away out of annoyance. Carefully, Zuko raised his hand to where his thumb could most easily begin peeling the starched fabric away. Unwinding it took longer than he'd thought, as his ~~shaky~~ hand kept revolving carefully as more and more of the now stained bandages gathered around his wrist. Once he had completed his task, he turned towards the healer with a bleak acceptance.

The man, who looked at least as old as his father if not older, briefly frowned at the sight. Judging from the lines creased into his face, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Sighing, he turned towards Iroh, scratching the top of his head, careful to avoid the half ponytail he had put his shaggy, chin-length hair in.

"That's at least a 2nd, probably 3rd, degree burn on his face, and it's concentrated in one singular area. Usually there's a lot more surrounding damage in regular burn injuries." The healer put an emphasis on regular, looking at Zuko's uncle for a silent confirmation.

"The flame that did this was controlled." Iroh answered, refusing to divulge any more than that.

Nodding, the healer warily looked back and clucked as he began examining the wound from afar, "Nerve damage is likely in the epicenter of the burn, which is, unfortunately, the eye. It's also possible the ear sustained some sort of injury, but it's too early to make that kind of assumption."

Zuko's scowl deepened. He hadn't tried to open his eye yet. If he had lost it… well, it wasn't a bandaid he was particularly eager to rip off. It wasn't like he was scared, no, fear was _weakness_ and he wouldn't be weak, not anymore. He was just… apprehensive about the finality of trying to use it. There would be no more limbo, he was either blind in his left eye or not. As for his ear, that was something he hadn't considered, but the thought made his bleed freeze.

Gripping the edge of the cot, Zuko sucked in a slow, quiet breath. As he exhaled, he tried not to think of the cramped metal walls closing in around him, as they always seemed to be. Silently, he started noting the more inane details of the room encasing him. There was only one other cot and it was directly across from him, the head and the side pressed against the corner much like his own. Still on the other side of the room, a few feet further from the edge of the opposite cot, was a counter with a sink and cabinets both above and under it. On it, stacks of salves, books, bandages, and other supplies, were crowded together, presumably in the process of being organized. Closing his one good eye, he felt the pressure on his chest alleviate, and let himself be drawn back into the conversation.

"But we'll focus on that at some other point." The healer continued, apparently taking notice of Zuko's reluctance, "Right now, making sure the area doesn't get infected is a top priority. What I can recommend is some salve to be applied at least once a day, then dry, clean and loose bandages covering it, and those should be changed twice a day, at least."

"Is that all?" Iroh asked, staring down the man with an intensity he wasn't entirely used to.

"For now." The man answered, carefully choosing his words, "Until he can open his eye, or I can conduct some auditory tests, a firm judgement on the extent of the damage can't be made. And until then, the best possible course of action is the treatment I've laid out."

Iroh backed off, apparently pleased with the response, "Of course, my thanks, Healer…?"

"Asa." He answered, before adding on, "And physician is a much more accurate description of my role."

"Really?" Iroh said, usually, people thought twice before trying to correct him, yet he'd done it without any hesitation. He wasn't opposed to it, in fact, delighted was a more accurate descriptor, "I thought all those who worked with medicine were called as such."

Asa grimaced, "Healer is an outdated term, used for magic and spirits and those who place their faith in that nonsense. My job is about acquiring and applying knowledge."

"You refer to the spirits as nonsense?" Iroh asked, amusement refusing to hide in his voice.

Zuko tried very hard not to groan. Everyone knew that his uncle had great respect for the old ways, to a very frustrating fault. So this man either knew and had no desire to keep himself safe, or he didn't know and that meant he was an uninformed idiot. Neither of those options were good.

"I suppose I do." Heal-, _Physician_ Asa truthfully answered.

"Interesting." The old general laughed, full and without any anger.

"Perhaps." The physician shrugged, before turning towards the prince sitting on one of the only cots in the medical bay, "Currently, it wouldn't be a good idea to try and force your eye open, but just be warned that the longer you wait, the longer it'll take to readjust."

Zuko mustered up what strength he could from his tired bones and shrugged, "If it's going to be covered, what's the point?"

"That may be your opinion now, but trust me when I say that fighting and depth perception go hand in hand." Asa said, staring him down as though he wasn't greatly outranked, "And that seems like something you care about."

Zuko tried not to let his mild surprise show. Despite apparently being troublesome enough to be banished along with a shameful prince, the man was clearly perceptive. And he knew what he was doing. Which was more than someone in Zuko's position could hope for.

"I'll consider it." Zuko finally decided upon, refusing to meet the physician's gaze.

"Oh my, where are your manners?" Iroh lightly chastised, "He's done us a great service, it wouldn't be right not to show thanks."

Put on the spot, Asa looked uncomfortable with the idea, his face scrunching up in displeasure almost at the same time as Zuko's. Quickly shaking his head, the man discarded the idea.

"It's what I get paid for." He explained, turning away to begin organizing his strewn about supplies, glancing about before finally spotting the salve he'd been seeking, and grabbing it to hand to the old general, "Just make sure to take this and apply it according to my instructions. If anything happens, well, you know where to find me."

Iroh chuckled again, without humor, and accepted the medicine, "I suppose we do."

Facing Zuko, Asa brushed off the general's words, "Do you know how to redress it properly?"

Zuko bit down the urge to insist he could, he didn't want to seem weak but… something told him that this man would have seen right through it. Shaking his head, Zuko didn't truly meet his gaze, focused on a point just off to the left. The physician took a beat before starting to search for bandages, only needing a few seconds.

"Alright. I'm going to apply the salve first, and then the bandages, after I wash my hands. Is that okay?" Asa said, awaiting Zuko's response.

Frowning, Zuko shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't sure why the man was so insistent on explaining everything to him, he wasn't using that tone people tended to use on Zuko either. Like he was a child who needed to be coddled. He was just relaying actions, with no undertones beneath his words. It was… refreshing.

True to his word, Asa was already at the sink, scrubbing quickly and consistently. Counting under his breath, he finished, and quickly wiped off his hands. Once dried, he grabbed a clean set of bandages, another container of burn salve, and what looked like a cloth pad. Supplies in hand, he made his back to the prince, who was uneasily watching the other man's movement with barely hidden wariness.

"I'm starting now." Asa said, unscrewing the cap to the salve, and grabbing the sterile applicator in the container.

Zuko grimaced, it was becoming second nature at this point, and nodded once. Closing his eye, he made sure to keep a steady rhythm to his breathing. Just in case.

Quickly, the cooling medicine was applied, practiced strokes covering the damaged skin, like a paintbrush on an old, scratched canvas. As good as it felt, relief flooding throughout his veins as the pain died down, it was hard to ignore his spiking pulse at every new touch. He refused to be scared, he _ordered_ himself not to be, his traitorous body refusing the simplest of commands.

It was over as soon as it had started, even without his sight, he could feel the physician pull away, or at least hear him set the jar down. And judging by the ever familiar crinkling that had just started, bandages were probably next. He wasn't sure which he preferred, an open face or a covered one. It did feel freeing to no longer have a constant cover on his burn, no more itching at least, but that meant his… mark was visible. He hadn't even gotten a good look at it yet, and that wasn't a confrontation he needed to have at the moment. So, he'd yield and accept the mild annoyance of medical treatment.

Something pressed against his eye, and Zuko twitched. This wasn't like before, instead of what seemed like miles of wrapping covering his head, it was a simple, clean pad. Sensing the pressure behind it, he made sure to stay very still, feeling the more traditional bandage wrap around his skull and hold it in place. After a moment to tie it off, or whatever Asa did to make it hold, it was over, blissfully finished.

Stepping back, Asa sighed, "All done."

Zuko opened his eye, blinking once or twice to clear the blurriness, and quickly swept the room with his gaze. Everything was much of the same, still messy, small, and full of stagnant air. Standing by the doorway, his uncle took it all in, his small smile revealing nothing.

"Is that all?" Zuko asked, feeling his voice strain in his throat.

(He'd screamed at the Agni Kai, according to Azula's taunts, which had seemed a little more desperate and uncertain than her usual venom. But he'd screamed and screamed and _screamed_ until he no longer could, so now his voice had the habit of croaking and shifting without his knowledge.)

"No more from me." Asa said, gathering up everything he hadn't used.

"Good." Zuko replied, hardening his glare and his face to match.

Nodding, Asa went back to his task of clearing and sorting different items, taking time to place them on carefully managed shelves. After a moment or two of silence, it was clear that the visit was over, and the man wouldn't be addressing either of the royals again. Zuko awkwardly began climbing down from the raised cot he'd gotten on, cursing his age and his height.

"On to the next task, nephew." Iroh muttered, already at the door and waiting for the boy.

Zuko sighed, there was no getting out of something his uncle was dead set on doing. Trudging - a very mature kind of trudging he might add - towards the exit, he made sure he stood up straight, rolling back his shoulders. It would be tolerable, a few words from his uncle to some soldiers, and it would be over, simple. So why did he feel an impending sense of dread at the thought?

* * *

Zuko ~~loved~~ tolerated his uncle, and that was enough to put up with his bothersome antics. But this? This was going _way_ too far.

Currently, he was sulking next to his tea-crazed family member with all the subtlety of a sea monster. His uncle had insisted on a prolonged conversation with the members of the crew he'd apparently been familiar with, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. They weren't here to waste time _talking_ , they were here to find the Avatar! Or, at least keep the ship running so Zuko could do so.

"And this is my nephew, Prince Zuko." Iroh introduced, laughing as he clasped the boy's shoulder.

Zuko gave a polite bow, probably inappropriate considering he was a prince and the only thing that was supposed to outrank him was his father. But his uncle had also done so, and there was no one around to chastise Zuko for following in his lead. Not that the rest of the crew seemed to appreciate it, they were just as bored and disinterested as him.

"It's good to be under your command again, General Iroh." Some Lieutenant - Jee if Zuko remembered right - said and Zuko felt his patience slip to dangerously low levels.

"Actually, Lieutenant-" Iroh winced, looking down at Zuko with worry in his eyes.

" _I'm_ the one leading this expedition." Zuko interrupted, ignoring the pleading look cast his way.

The lieutenant blankly stared at him, wheels turning very quickly in his head. After a moment, he deeply bowed.

"I apologize, sir." He said, holding his position for a few seconds, before standing up.

"Don't make that mistake again." Zuko warned, putting on his best 'I'm in charge' look he could muster.

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Jee replied, nodding his head to placate the boy.

"Good." Zuko said, keeping the severe expression, before turning to Iroh, "I'm done with this. I'll be in my room."

And with that, he stalked off, ignoring the silent crowd watching as he stomped across the echoey steel deck, and wrenched open the door that led to the bowels of the ship. Stepping inside, he slammed it behind him, the force of its impact almost shaking the floor beneath him. And a weight lifted off his chest. All those people, staring at his bandages with those questions hidden just underneath their gazes, wondering if it could connect with his banishment. It was too much. Letting out a shaky breath, and opening his eye, he realized with a dawning certainty that he had no idea where his room was.

"Ugh."

* * *

"Sir, does he-" Jee looked at Iroh, finally taking his eyes away from the spectacle the prince had given.

"Oh, he most certainly does not." Iroh chuckled, turning around and walking off to acquaint himself with anyone else he could find, "But exploration is good for the soul. It's what every growing boy needs."

Jee, caught between trying to contradict the Dragon of the West or letting the prince wreak havoc, sighed. He wasn't on duty just yet, so any problems he wasn't being paid for would be ignored.

"If you say so, sir."

* * *

Turning down another hallway, Zuko continued cursing under his breath. Whoever designed this labyrinth of a warship was crazy, or on drugs, probably both. He felt the briefest pang of regret of not going back to ask his uncle for the location of his bedroom, but he squashed the idea. He wasn't a kid, he didn't need help. As the commander of the ship, he had to be strong, and he had to do his job. And that meant sticking to decisions, even if they were… difficult.

More like stupid, a voice in his skull that sounded too much like his little sister said. It wasn't stupid, he reasoned with his own brain, just… quick. And quick was good when you had the information needed. But he hadn't had that, just the overwhelming need to _get away_ from everyone else. So maybe it wasn't the best idea, tactically speaking. But going back on it now would be _weak_ and that wasn't something he'd ever be again.

That sniveling piece of himself had burnt along with the flesh surrounding his left eye, it was a gift, really. With that gone, he could be free to accomplish the task set forth by his father. It wasn't impossible, it would be difficult, but his father would never have told Zuko to do something if he didn't think he could do it. That would just be…

His step faltered. Shaking his head, and digging his nails into his hand, he absolutely _refused_ to give any fuel to that traitorous line of thought. His father loved him, Zuko just disappointed him, Zuko made it difficult for his father to show it. Azula didn't make it hard, she didn't make mistakes. Which is why Azula got showered with praise and attention, he could almost hear the masters that trained them both, whispering and wishing him to be more like her. He winced at that. She was so talented, leagues above him, but she was _terrifying_.

He loved her, but she took joy in things that made his stomach turn, to the point of sickness. Burnt animals turned up at the palace, not often enough to arouse suspicion, but it was something that Zuko knew was a habit. He had tried to confront her, but she'd played it off with the perfect amount of indignance that he'd gotten in trouble for accusing her. Once, after his mother had… vanished, it had been a turtleduck Azula had turned her attention to. He hadn't known until he found a blackened shell in a hallway adjacent to the pond, that day was the closest he came to crying outside of the safety of his room.

He'd buried it near the pond, sniffling the entire time, and when Azula had turned up, he had glared at her and ignored her for the rest of the week. It wasn't mature or smart, but she'd taken one of the last connections he had to their mother and turned to ashes. After that, he hadn't found any more singed animal corpses, she had only gotten better at hiding them.

Did he miss her? There was so much to examine in that one question, to sort and dissect, that he felt it best to ignore it. Their relationship was complicated, constantly oscillating between a tentative almost-friendship and heated rivals. Azula was a presence in his life that was now no longer there, no matter his feelings, that vacancy was something that would take time to get used to.

Whipping around another corner, only getting deeper and lower in the vessel, trying to navigate it's twisty interior, he tried to shake any thoughts of home before he could feel regret clawing at his throat. Searching rooms was out of the question, he hadn't been able to pack anything, so he assumed there would be no familiar possessions wherever he was assigned to live. Just an empty room, with nothing in it. Which unfortunately described half the ship in its current state.

Wandering aimlessly probably wasn't the best way to go about it, but it beat doing nothing. At least he could claim he was familiarizing himself with the layout of the ship, that would be a sound excuse. Not that he really expected to run into anyone else, everyone had been called above for introductions.

Rolling his eyes at the absurd idea, the one that his uncle had actually gone through with, he caught sight of a large steel door in the hallway to the left of him. Above it, was a metal sign bolted into the wall, the chipped black paint read _Engine Room_. Had he really gotten that deep into the vessel? Already?

Although, he grimly noted, it was considerably smaller than any recently made warship, and the layers of rust coating parts of the hull made it obvious it was decades old. A decommissioned ship, that had probably been waiting to be made into scrap, was the best he could have. He let the anger flare and burn itself out, he was _banished_ , and that meant he didn't deserve the air he breathed, much less use it to complain about his status.

"Oh, you're SHITTING me!"

The voice that had so clearly interrupted his thoughts came from the door his sight had been stuck on. Raising his eyebrow, Zuko tentatively stepped toward the door, carefully shifting his weight to lighten his footsteps. In a few feet, he was at the door, staring down the handle. Grabbing the warm metal jutting out from the middle, stretching his fingers over it as he took a deep breath, he turned it and pushed in.

The door creaked, and he winced, so much for stealth. Stepping over the metal ridge raised up from the floor, he felt a wave of steam slam into his body, a layer of sweat instantly appearing in response. Blinking the wispy streams of water out of his vision, he first noticed how red everything seemed. The blood-like color was cast down from the boilers, dark lights bolted above them as they continued humming and clanking to a tune all their own.

"Who's there?" The voice called out, sharp and curious.

Zuko couldn't answer, his stupid brain was still too caught up in trying to make sense of the room, all the machines placed together in a confusing and chaotic order that just _hurt_ to look at. Seriously, _who_ got away with designing this?

"I swear, I _will_ brain you with a wrench if I don't get an answer-" A figure huffed as it popped out from behind a tangled mass of pipes about ten feet in front of Zuko.

Cocking their head, the welding mask on their face moving with it, deep red eyeholes scrutinizing the prince with total apathy.

"I didn't know they recruited younger than sixteen." Was all that was said.

"I wasn't recruited." He said, defensively crossing his arms and trying to puff his chest out, "I comm-"

A small explosion and a plume of smoke cut off his explanation as the figure darted back to their previous position, leaving Zuko alone. Glancing around, and with nothing else to do, he slowly started following the engineer. Peeking around the corner, he saw them jump around, swearing and trying to fix whatever had gone wrong.

"Non-benders shouldn't be in here." They said, pausing briefly.

"I can bend." Zuko replied, bitter at the assumption.

"Oh." They took a beat, "Can you hand me the wrench?"

Rolling his eyes, he scoffed, "I'm not-"

A pipe burst next to the engineer, who practically jumped into the wall trying to escape it. Breathing heavily, they rolled their shoulders, and stuck their hand out towards Zuko.

"Wrench. _Now_."

Zuko complied.

* * *

Some time later, after scrambling around and trying to put names to items (what in Agni's rays was a _torque wrench_ , wasn't that just a regular wrench? Apparently not!) they both had finished. Watching with utter relief as nothing else burst or broke, Zuko sighed. He wiped the sweat off his brow and frowned.

He'd spent the last thirty minutes fixing engines and coolant systems, doing peasants work. The smug sneer of Azula's face was almost palpable, if she ever found out she'd never let him hear the end of it. His father would go on about how shameful it was to have his son stoop so low, as if he could really do any worse than he already had.

"We're lucky if this thing manages to go a week without blowing." The engineer sighed, slumping against the wall and slowly falling down to a sitting position, "Whoever put the okay on setting sail in this deathtrap is insane."

"It was my uncle." Zuko said, too tired to bite back.

"Your uncle has terrible taste in ships." They answered, shrugging.

"He's the Dragon of the West." Zuko rolled his head away, waiting for the profuse apologies to follow.

"Huh." Was all that he heard, turning back, Zuko saw they were removing the mask.

Setting it down, she gave a weak smile, "Sorry about that then, Prince Zuko."

Her hair was cropped at the chin, tucked behind her ears with a braid from the front right side of her head pulled back and pinned. She didn't have age carved into her skin like his uncle, or the physician, but she was definitely older than him. Her stare, afraid but unflinching and steady, was only emphasized by eyes so dark there was no other way to describe them but black.

He blamed it on exhaustion, but he couldn't bring himself to properly chew her out.

"Whatever. You're right, this hunk of junk was all he could get on short notice."

"Well," she laughed, rubbing her neck, "I look forward to keeping this 'hunk of junk' afloat."

Staring down, he finally let himself give into his curiosity, "What's your name?"

"Maemi." She nodded, obliging his question, "Second Engineer."

"Oh." He squinted in concentration, "There's more than one?"

Loud, barking laughter filled the warm, humid air, "Is that a joke?"

He crossed his arms tightly and felt his face flush more than it already had, "It was a question." he grumbled.

"There's never just one." Maemi explained, still smiling, "Technically there should be a team of four or five for a ship this size, at least. But two will have to do."

"So, where's the other one?" Zuko asked.

He wasn't sure why he let himself become so… complacent with another person. He was her leader, and fraternizing with an insignificant cog in the machine wouldn't help accomplish the mission. Insignificant? Frowning, he thought about the panic induced state he'd been in moments before, praying that nothing would explode or break as his grease-coated fingers had tools slipping out of his grasp. That wasn't 'insignificant'. Her job was dangerous, scary, Zuko had begrudging respect for it. Still… he could always blame this uncharacteristic conversation of his on inhaling dangerous fumes, enough pipes had split open for that to be a possibility.

"First Engineer Riku got called above, something about introductions." She waved her hand flippantly at the ceiling, "One of us had to stay down here to finish repairs, and I told him I could do it."

Zuko rolled his eyes, "Yeah, that was uncle's idea. I didn't like it."

"You don't seem to like much of anything, kid." She replied, limply shrugging.

He glared at her, "I'm not a kid, I'm a prince, _your_ prince. And it doesn't matter what I like, it's not part of the mission."

"Nah-uh," She waggled her finger at him in warning, "there's none of that in the Engine Room. Class titles don't stop things from blowing up, you're not a prince, or a noble, or a peasant once you step in here. You're just a person trying to fix something."

Zuko scowled, "That's stupid."

"Titles are stupid." Maemi said, watching his confusion with modest delight, "It's a matter of perspective."

"It's still nonsense." He protested, replaying her words in his head.

"You can't call it nonsense when it works." She argued, watching carefully as he got more frustrated, "The only hierarchy that exists in here is whoever takes the most responsibility for things going bad. We're ranked by skill and experience."

"That's how titles work!" He hissed, violently turning towards her, "Nobles take responsibility for members of their family and their businesses, and the Fire Lord takes responsibility for the nation!"

"Ah, but do they, really?" Maemi contradicted, pointing at him, "The difference is that those are roles you're _born_ into, while I'm talking about ones you earn. And when's the last time a noble didn't just shrug off their 'responsibilities' onto everyone below them while reaping the benefits?"

"That's not true." Zuko narrowed his eyes, "Why would they do something like that?"

Maemi stared at him, studying his outraged face and shambled breathing, "You're pretty naive, aren't you?"

"I'm not!" He insisted, feeling his chest and neck burn with the accusation, "You just don't know what you're talking about!"

She shook her head, slowly beginning to stand up, "You're not going to listen, and I have to get back to work."

"Fine!" Zuko snapped, stomping away.

"Kid," She called out, waiting for him to eventually stop and turn around, "you can come down here again, if you want. As long as you're willing to help."

"Why would I want to do that?" He bitterly replied, cocking his head to the side.

She shrugged, "Dunno. Just offering, you don't have to."

He glared even harder, trying to find some message in her posture or expression that would give him an answer. There was nothing that he could find.

It was too good to be true, he reminded himself, over and over again. There was some reason she offered it, there was always something people wanted from him. Her face offered nothing, wanted nothing, yet Zuko couldn't understand it. It didn't make sense, and he didn't like that.

Zuko sneered, "Like I'd have time for peasants work."

Turning on his heel, he sped out of there as fast as he could without running. Slamming the door behind him, the thud almost making him leap out of his skin, he stumbled down the short hallway. He couldn't slow down, he just wanted to get away from whatever that had been.

 _Human connection_? Another traitorous part of his head whispered, one that sounded too much like his proverb spewing uncle. Maemi was just… weird. Odd. No subtle manipulation, or saccharine words that were poison at the core. Just… conversation. About the politics of the Fire Nation's social hierarchy of all things! He can't remember someone ever daring to say such things to his face back at the palace, if they had… well, they certainly wouldn't have lasted until the next sunrise.

Slowing down, he felt his lungs burn, like inhaling liquid fire. Glancing around, he saw that he was far, _far_ away from where he'd started. So that explained the pain in his sides and the soreness in his feet. Leaning against the wall, stumbling as he did so, he took a shuddering inhale.

Breathing as evenly as possible, he closed his eyes, concentrating on his inner flame. He could feel it beat and move with his own heart, in a way it _was_ his heart, the center of his chi, his life. The gift that allowed him to bend flames at his fingertips, the gift he hadn't used since he'd awoken after the Agni Kai. In very dark, selfish moments, he considered it a curse, a burden. To shun Agni's kindness was unforgivable, still… he couldn't stop his breath from hitching at every flicker of fire.

Sliding down, resting on the floor, he decided to wait until he could find his uncle. Right now, his previous priorities were nothing, he just needed _space_. A moment to collect his roiling thoughts, before finding his room. It probably wouldn't be used to sleep in, that was something that hadn't come easy to him in a long time. Just one minute, he told himself, one minute…

* * *

Iroh was humming to himself in the halls, some old tune he could no longer place in his many years of living. He was wandering the halls, although he had insisted he was just going for an evening stroll despite resistance from the crew, all it had taken were a few well-timed smiles with a little too much teeth showing to be friendly. He wasn't actively looking for his nephew, per se, it was best that the boy make his own mistakes and learn from them, but if he just happened to run into him… oh well, who could help it?

Turning a corner, his eyes briefly widened and a weight lifted off his aging shoulders. Smiling widely, he quickly stepped towards Zuko, who had turned the opposite corner at almost the same time as Iroh.

"Nephew, it's good to see you!" Iroh began, keeping chipper, "How was your exploration?"

Zuko rolled his eyes, "It was hardly an exploration, uncle, it's so small it barely counts as a warship."

"Still, I imagine you had some sort of adventure, Prince Zuko." Iroh shrugged, starting to slowly walk towards their quarters as Zuko absentmindedly trailed along.

"There's no time for 'adventures', uncle." Zuko growled, a dark look flashing on his face, "The Avatar isn't going to find himself."

"If you insist." Iroh answered, before continuing, "We'll be leaving port in a few minutes, I had a talk with the crew while you were gone."

"Good." Zuko said, marching alongside Iroh, "Where are we going, anyways?"

"Too our rooms, Prince Zuko." Iroh said, turning one last corner, "It's late and my joints ache, it's time for me to turn in."

"I meant the course, uncle." Zuko spit out, growing more irritated by the second.

"Ah! Well, for now, we're headed to the closest neutral port outside of Fire Nation waters. It should take a week or so to get there, we can stock supplies and spend a few days on land before setting off again." Iroh explained, stopping at a bleak metal door.

"Fine. I'll allow it." Zuko glared at the floor, "But any other course changes are to be run by _me_ first."

"Of course, Prince Zuko." Iroh agreed, partially bowing to him.

The boy began stalking off, getting no more than ten feet away before stopping. Without turning around, he asked, "Where's my room?"

"It's to the right of mine, nephew." Iroh answered, a bemused look lightning up his face.

Zuko nodded tersely and began stomping back, hiding his face as he wrenched open the door and stepped inside. Slamming it shut, Iroh was left alone in the hallway.

"That boy," He softly chuckled, "has much to learn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... originally Maemi was not gonna be that important but this just felt right to me? So I'll probably include her more. Also you can't tell me that no one looked at Zuko and was like 'wow this kid is TRAUMATIZED' or 'hmmm his scar that he got right before he was banished by his dad is in the shape of a hand I wonder why' which is the basis for this whole fic so whatever


	2. Meet Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm surprised at how many people seem to like this, and I'm super thankful for it. Anyways these next few chapters are kind of boring and OC focused because I need to establish them, sorry about that. Stuff will pick up soon, so just wait. Please enjoy. My [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/innogens-breadsticks) is @Innogens-breadsticks, and thanks!

Pikeman Yuuto liked to think he was a simple guy. Coming from a small town on an obscure island in the Fire Nation, his origin was pretty much in line with the idea. And joining the military like every other kid at sixteen? The epitome of an expected average! He was descended from a mixture of military personnel and fishermen, had little money to his family name, and didn't expect huge things out of life. The perfect Fire Nation citizen who would gladly bleed out if the Dragon Throne commanded it.

So, yeah, he liked to think he was simple. And sure, his life was planned to be a carbon copy of his mom and dad's, and their parents, and their parents before them, but that was just how it was supposed to be. He'd serve his country, with honor and gratitude, and if he didn't gloriously give up his life in the process, he'd come home and work for the family business. His siblings would be expected to do the same, of course, that's how they all were raised (even if Yuuto was the one who did the raising, but that was okay! His parents had more important things to do).

It was all supposed to be _simple_. Just follow orders, don't make yourself an easy target, and be quicker to the kill than the enemy. That was fine, he could do that. Until he was stationed at the colonies and then everything wasn't so easy. It was boring most of the time, and the colonies were weird. The most excitement one could hope for was capturing a rogue earthbender, but he had no such luck. Then, a report came in and then _everything_ went to shit.

Now, he was stuck on a ship with the banished prince, all but officially sharing his fate. He was supposed to be in the army, Kohdammit! But gathering soldiers at the last minute seemed to leave little room for accounting those kinds of details. It was either the boat or to the prisons with Yuuto, so it had been an easy choice at the time, he hadn't yet realized how much he hated warships.

He was used to smaller fishing boats, constantly being in the sun with comfortable loose clothing as he dragged up nets with people he'd known his whole life. Now he was expected to stay in the stuffy metal innards of a rustbucket on a mission that he wasn't expected to come back from, with complete and utter strangers. It had barely been four days since they'd set off, and under a darkened sky, he tried to burn the sight of the disappearing port into his memory. It was probably the last he'd ever see of the Fire Nation.

After being haphazardly released from holding, along with some others that had also been offered the same deal of prison or banishment, it had only taken a few days to travel to the vessel, apparently called _The Wani_. Previously named or not, Yuuto had decided to refer to it solely as 'Rustbucket' or 'Hellhole', he had yet to slip up and call it that out loud and only hoped that when he did, they'd chuck him overboard. Maybe he wasn't handling the transition well, like, at all.

To be fair, Pikeman Yuuto was only eighteen, and had just massively screwed his life up. Which wasn't uncommon for his age, but it usually didn't result in being expelled from one's country. Frankly, the fact he hadn't broken down into an inconsolable pile of tears was a testament to his strength.

At least his duties weren't particularly stressful, as a Pikeman his role was mainly combat related, and on a search for a long dead figure? There probably wouldn't be much combat. He hoped. Spirits, he really hoped.

So unless a situation suddenly arose where they needed someone to be impaled with a spear, he was relegated to 'guarding' the ship. And as a non-bender, he was ignored for the daily sparring that every single firebender seemed to desperately crave. Still, walking around the Rustbucket for eight hours at a time with nothing else to do wasn't exactly fun. And the bunking situation wasn't much better.

Considering his unorthodox (or was it orthodox considering others had appeared the same way?) arrival, and just the rushed nature of the whole deal, the people in charge of the mission were obviously disorganized, and that meant living spaces were basically a free-for-all. Yuuto considered himself lucky when he found one for himself and that no one else had marked it as theirs, what he hadn't accounted for was its proximity to the engine room. Every night he was privy to the constant swearing, explosions, and clanging coming from the engineers. This was hell, he was sure of it.

And now that everything had somewhat settled, firewatch was being assigned! Even though he'd moderately enjoyed his duties before, firewatch was something he hated with all the viciousness his soul could muster. It was stupid, patrolling at night for hours at a time with a partner, for 'safety' reasons. Who needed to watch out for fire on a ship full of people who commanded it? But it was just a name, and he always complied out of grudging necessity. Tonight, however, was his first shift.

It was the worst shift to be assigned, 2 AM to 5 AM. Not enough time to get rested beforehand, and just late enough that it would be almost impossible to go back to bed before sunrise. At least he wouldn't suffer alone. If whoever was told to do it with him would actually show up.

Minutes before he was to start patrol, he stood, shivering and blinking sleep out of his eyes, in the hallway leading to the deck. Technically that's where they were supposed to start, to do a lap around the exposed area, before going inside the vessel and taking a winding path to check out almost every inch. He'd memorized the route out of habit, it was detailed by the acting Captain (that was the Jee guy, right?) during one of the crew's daily meetings.

His teeth clacking despite the layers of armor cloaking him was just another example of why he despised the Rustbucket, it managed to be unbearably hot or bone-bitingly cold depending on the hour. Mourning the lost sleep (like he was going to get any if he stayed in bed), he recalled a time when he'd been… happy. Or complacent, they were basically the same. It would have only been a week and a half ago that he'd have faced all of this with a smile and 'go-getter' attitude, marching around with his weary comrades that no longer had the energy to try and deal with him. Good times.

Just as he was about to stomp off for his shift, alone and cursing people who didn't obey assignment lists, a figure scrambled around the corner. Staying in place, he watched as they ran up to him, out of breath, and with a crooked helmet. The skull helmets were tacky, that was a fact every soldier had accepted, apparently it was supposed to strike fear into their enemies but right now, it just looked plain silly.

"Sorry," They started, taking in a shuddering breath as they heaved in front of Yuuto, hissing their words out, "my stupid fucking bunkmates kept giving me trouble."

Biting down the urge to respond with something like 'you shouldn't blame others for your own mistakes' or the equally irritating 'you're a soldier, act like it', Pikeman Yuuto sighed and gestured to the door, a silent plea to just get started.

"Right, yeah, okay." They stood up, hands on hips, nodding along.

Shaking his head, Yuuto walked towards the door. Usually, he'd be ecstatic at the possibility of human contact, but running on little to no sleep tended to screw with a person. Hearing the padding of footsteps and the creaking of not-quite-up-to-regulation armor, he pinched the bridge of his nose and willed the next three hours to go by as quickly as possible.

* * *

After an hour of wandering along their route in awkward silence, only broken by stifled yawns and the hum of the engines below them, Yuuto was finally awake enough that his natural curiosity began to resurface from the murky depths of sleep-deprivation. Of course, he was hesitant about trying to talk to someone who'd only seen him hate the entire world in their short time together. Looking at the floor, just metal sheets bolted together, he decided 'fuck it' and turned around to face his partner.

"What's your name?" He asked, tapping his foot.

They stared at each other, before the unnamed person started speaking, "Oh? We're talking now?"

He frowned. Sarcasm. That was something he always had trouble with.

"Sure." He shrugged, "Why not."

"You've been pretty pissy this whole time, so…" They trailed off, tilting their head to the side as they shifted their weight to emphasize the point.

Yuuto was patient, he had to be, an older brother to four siblings required a boatload of the stuff. But that didn't mean his eye hadn't started twitching.

"It's the worst shift." He deadpanned, "Excuse me for not jumping around with cheer at the thought."

In a surprising turn of events, they snorted at that, obviously amused, "Yeah, that makes sense."

"Let's start over." Yuuto said, sticking his hand out in a show of solidarity, "I'm Pikeman Yuuto, it's nice to meet you."

After a moment, their hand met his, "Seaman Daitan."

"So, Seaman Daitan," Yuuto said, using their full title, "how long have you been in the military?"

"Since I was eighteen." They shrugged, "I'm twenty one now, so three years. You mind if I…" they gestured to their helmet.

"No, not at all." Yuuto said.

Some ranks were technically supposed to wear them at all times while on duty, but they were hell to see and breathe out of. And it's not like they had any enemies breathing right down their necks, rules meant for the battlefield were of little consequence to those stuck far away from it.

Slipping off their helmet, a dark braid falling out of it, she gave a dark grin, "Sorry, this thing sucks."

Seaman Daitan had interesting eyes. Rather than the varying shades of amber or brown Pikeman Yuuto had grown accustomed to, they were a striking hazel. A mix of muddy earth and gleaming jade, eyes only found in colonies. He tried not to let that fact get under his skin. Other than that, there was nothing too unusual about her. Frizzy brown hair was stuck in a side braid as wispy bangs framed her forehead, simple and easy to take care of. She wore the armor with experience and confidence, and her stance was firm, ready to fight at any given moment.

"They do." He offered, sympathetically, "It's one of the only good things about being a Pikeman, we get open faced ones."

She let out a low whistle, "Lucky." After a second to adjust the helmet to be tucked against her side, she turned to him, "So how long have you been in?"

"Two years." Yuuto sighed, "Since I was sixteen."

"Shit." Daitan replied, cocking her eyebrow, "Money?"

He shook his head, "Family tradition."

Clucking in a disapproving manner, Daitan started walking, set to continue on their path, "That's probably the worst reason."

"Usually, I'd disagree with you." Yuuto said, keeping pace with her, "But it's not like I have much to show for it."

"No one does." Daitan shrugged, "That's just how it is."

"Maybe." Yuuto agreed, as they rounded a corner.

"How'd you get here anyways?" Daitan asked, glancing up and down the corridor, "You know, on this ship of screw ups?"

He stared blankly in response. A whole ship of 'screw ups'? The people in charge of this mission had been desperate to recruit, sure, but to make such a hasty judgement call seemed… rude. 

"That's a little harsh." He countered, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

"Maybe to you, but it's true." Daitan's face grew tight, "They're not going to give a banished prince the cream of the crop, you know?"

"But he's still the prince." Yuuto insisted, "They wouldn't actively try and saddle him with troublesome soldiers." He rolled his eyes.

"Really? You haven't seen any patterns with the crew, none at all?" She insisted, rising her brows expectantly, "Are you sure?" 

"Well…" He shifted uncomfortably, "it's rude to make comments about people you don't know well."

"I'll just say it for you." She growled, "They're pretty shitty soldiers, for a wide array of reasons. Drinking on duty, disobedience, just being bad at fighting in general."

"Well, I know he's banished…" Yuuto admitted, "but purposefully giving him with cast offs would be stupid, unless…" His eyes widened, and his face fell slack.

She rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you didn't realize it, it's obvious. They don't want him to come back."

"B-But why?" Yuuto stuttered, hand going up to the smooth leather of his helmet, "He's the crown prince, next in line for the throne!"

"Apparently, the Firelord doesn't like that. I heard he favors his second child, Princess Azula." Daitan said, carefully checking out their surroundings, worried about someone listening in, "She can make _blue_ flames."

"Oh, uh, that's… cool?" Yuuto said, confused as to how the color was relevant, "But I don't see what that has to do-"

"You're not a bender, are you?" She interrupted, raising her eyebrow.

That was always what surprised people, usually they took one look at him and assumed he was, since his eyes were reminiscent of the dying orange of a sunset. Yuuto had tried to bend as soon as he was able to form coherent thoughts, even though it was _long_ past the acceptable window, and he kept trying, for years. It just wasn't meant to be, a rare kind of failure.

"Well," He swallowed, "no…"

"That explains it. I'll try and dumb it down for you." She said with exasperation, "See, the intensity and power of your flames depends on your inner fire, you can consider it a representation of your will to live and fight. So for most people, it stays within a certain range of power."

"But there are plenty of people who have drive and fighting spirit." Yuuto said, "How can there be such great gaps in power?"

"I'm getting to that." She all but snapped, "Another factor that comes into play is the talent you're born with. According to legend, the first human taught by dragons had the most powerful flames, and so they became Firelord. Which is why the royal family is so talented."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here." Yuuto sighed.

Daitan nodded, " _But_ … apparently that's not the case with Prince Zuko."

He cringed, "It's probably best we don't name him, we could get in trouble."

"Fine." She huffed, "That's not the case with the _brat_."

Still not great, but acceptable. Yuuto didn't complain, so she continued.

"It's really only rumors, you know, the Dragon Throne doesn't really like these things getting out." She muttered, keeping her voice low and soft, "It took months for him to even throw sparks, most late benders start doing that after _weeks_."

Yuuto nodded, "That's what happened to my sister, we thought she couldn't bend, until she set a curtain on fire at three weeks." He chose not to mention how his hope to control flame only died when he was twelve, when he'd finally been kicked out from her lesson, and told to not come back.

Daitan shrugged, "That's usually what happens. But his sister… they say as soon as she came out, she burned the Fire Sage that presided over the birth for even considering the possibility of her not being able to bend."

Yuuto scrunched up his face, "No offense, that sounds-"

"Like a load of Kommodo-Rhino dung?" She finished for him, "It probably is."

"I wouldn't put it like that…" He mumbled, eyes scanning the area around them. Such words might be considered disrespect depending on who heard them.

"Even though the story is probably bogus-" Yuuto flinched "-her talent isn't. Blue flames are insanely hard to create, much less control, they burn hotter than regular flame. She's barely eleven and she's practically _mastered_ it."

"So, is that just talent or the power of her will?" Yuuto asked, leaning closer.

Daitan frowned, "Probably both. Not that it makes her any less terrifying."

"So, she's an insanely powerful bender, and her brother…" Yuuto trailed off as prices clicked in his mind, "...needs to be out of the way for her to ascend to the throne!"

"Not so loud!" Daitan hissed, "But yeah, that's the gist of it. So it's pretty obvious they don't want him to come back, ever, so why would they waste good soldiers on him?"

"That explains why they recruited at holding…" Yuuto said, tapping his chin.

"Is that where you were?" She said, eyebrows raised.

Sputtering, and reeling back, his reaction was a confirmation, "W-Well, I…"

Daitan began laughing, loud and hearty, "So you're not as boring as you seem! What'd you do to get arrested?"

He slumped, and in a defeated voice, admitted, "Disobeying direct orders."

"Really?" Daitan said, shocked, "No offense, but you don't seem like the type."

Yuuto replied, a dark look briefly flashing on his features, "I messed up, badly. That's all there is to it."

"If it makes you feel better, my reason for being here is pretty lame." She sighed, "I lost my temper one too many times and directed it at my commanding officers."

Yuuto took the olive branch and chuckled, "From what I know about you, that makes sense."

Mock offension crossed her face, "How could you say such a thing? I'm the epitome of a reserved and faithful soldier, we're going to have to duel now."

Playing along, he mirthfully protested, "A duel? But I'm so hopelessly outclassed, I can't even bend!"

"Too bad. You're going to have to wave candles around or something." She snickered, and any tension that was there had gone.

"Should we get a move on?" Yuuto smiled, gesturing to the hallway before them.

"Guess we can't shirk our duty forever." Daitan said, heaving herself forward and walking.

Maybe this wouldn't be entirely awful, Yuuto thought. Sure, he was under the command of a _very_ angry thirteen-year-old child, but at least he wasn't doing it alone. He'd managed to talk to another person, and while that didn't seem like much, he'd take what he could get. Catching up to Daitan, he figured he could at least finish his shift with no problems.

* * *

"What the _fuck_ was that!" Yuuto shrieked, jumping back.

Daitan rounded the corner like Yuuto had just done, coming up next to him, her voice was steely, and her fists were raised to a fighting position, "What? What is it?"

"There was something right-" He pointed down the hall toward a darkened intersection, "there!"

The tension went out of her shoulders, "There's nothing there, you're seeing things."

"No!" He insisted, wildly gesturing towards the spot, "There was something there, it ran away!"

"Fine, I'll humor you." She sighed, turning to him with a tired expression, "Can you describe it?"

He nodded, his body jittery with the surge of adrenaline in his blood, "I-It was wearing dark clothes, and it looked human! And… it was pretty short, like it wouldn't even meet halfway to my chest short."

After taking a moment to consider the details, Daitan opened her mouth, "So there's two obvious options at this moment, _if_ what you saw was real."

"Which are…?" Yuuto trailed off, looking at her expectantly, completely ignoring the last part of her sentence.

She grimaced, "The first option, the best one in my opinion, is that you were witness to a spirit attack and now the whole ship is haunted."

"How is that the best option?! That _sucks_!" He hissed, gesticulating with little care for his surroundings, "Besides, that sounds stupid, take this seriously!"

"I'm doing that as best I can." She answered, staring him down with narrowed eyes.

"Are you?" He accused, petulantly crossing his arms.

"Well, now that I think about it, I kind of have to." She said, her face falling.

There was a pit of roiling fear in his stomach that had appeared, he gulped and asked "...why do you say that?"

"Because the second option is that you saw the prince." She said, shrugging her shoulders, "I've met pretty much the whole crew and no one else matches that height."

"Fuck." He said, before a horrified expression flit over his features, "Oh, _fuck_. I scared off the _prince_ of the _Fire Nation_!"

"Yeah…" She winced, "you probably shouldn't have yelled at him like that."

"It's not my fault he was skulking around like some sort of monster from spirit legends!" He yelped, putting his head in his hands, he moaned, "I'm dead, oh Spirits, I'm so fucking dead."

"Any chance it still could've been a trick of the light?" She offered as he began to slump to the floor.

He appeared to not have heard her as he started whimpering, "Oh, Spirits, there won't even be ashes to send, I'm going to be _obliterated_. What are they gonna tell my family, 'Hey, there, remember how your son was a military disgrace? Great news, he was such a screw up that the banished prince completely annihilated him!'" At that, hysterical laughter burst from his throat.

"Okay, you're scaring me." Daitan said, kneeling next to him, "It's not that big a deal, you just startled him, right?"

He looked at her with amazement in his eyes, "The Firelord has killed people for less, why would his son be any different? My life is _over_."

"You're exaggerating _and_ overreacting," She sighed, patting his arm, "it'll probably never come up again."

"I'm not." He insisted, "Have you ever heard about the royal capital? About the disappearances and executions?"

"In case you haven't picked up on it, I grew up in the colonies. We don't get a lot of news." She explained, as an unnerving confusion settled deep in her soul, "And it's not a topic of conversation that comes up when you're trying not to get killed by _earthbenders_." She spit the word out like it was rancid meat.

"Count yourself lucky." He shuddered, staring blankly at the wall, "Growing up with the stories about what happens if you even _breathe_ around the royal family wrong, is… awful. And in the few years Firelord Ozai has been in power it's only gotten worse." Yuuto screwed his eyes closed, "I shouldn't even be talking about this, but hey, what have I got to lose?"

"Okay, the prince is, well, a brat," She admitted, as he winced again at the word, "but besides being pissy, I don't think he'll actually, you know, kill you."

Yuuto, mouth agape and eyes the size of dinner plates, guffawed, "Thanks for trying, but I've already accepted my fate."

"Okay, now that's just being defeatist." Daitan accused, pointing her finger at his face, "Can we at least finish firewatch before you have a complete mental breakdown?"

"Fine." He threw his hands out, narrowly missing his companion, "Fine! But if I go missing tomorrow, just know that I told you!"

Clasping her hands together in mock cheer, she smiled, "That's the spirit. Now get up before I have to haul your useless ass the rest of the way."

Staring at her, he sighed, "You're not good with people, are you?"

"Bold words from someone who scared off an angry thirteen-year-old who has the power and means to kill you." She gave a wicked smile as she pulled him up.

"I thought the point was to make sure I don't have a nervous breakdown." Yuuto muttered indignantly.

Daitan gave a noncommittal shrug, "Depends on my mood. Now let's get going, I'll even walk you back to your room once we're done."

"Like that's gonna help." He scoffed, "I'm right next to the engine room, I pretty much haven't slept this entire time."

Patting him on the shoulder, she grinned, "Sucks to suck, Pikeman Yuuto."

They'd be great friends, Yuuto realized with a creeping suspicion. Too bad he's going to be dead before that happens, a fact he grimaced at. He just hoped it'd be quick.

* * *

Prince Zuko couldn't sleep that night. Actually, scratch that, he _never_ slept. He'd always been a light sleeper ever since his mother had… gone, but now? It was impossible to close his eyes without seeing that Koh-damned arena, and the fire biting and eating the edges of his vision. He knew that his uncle probably had some sort of tea to help, not that he could ask, that'd be _weak_.

Zuko was injured, burned and banished, but he wasn't weak. He was thirteen, but he wasn't a child. He was a prince, and his command only covered one small ship. A patchwork person made of juxtapositions and contradicting facts all melded together.

But at least when he ~~wandered around~~ _practiced his stealth skills_ , he could be alone. Zuko liked that. Everyday was another version of the same routine, spending half his time in the Navigation Room raising his voice at that _stupid_ Captain, or eating with his uncle, or changing his bandages, or begging to be trained (not that he really wanted it but he needed _something_ ). But he was never alone, and he wanted to be. And when Zuko couldn't sleep, this was just the best option.

He turned a corner, softly padding his way through another random path, and because he was so caught up in his own mind, he didn't hear those thudding footsteps and armor creaks (seriously, what was the deal with that?). And it wasn't until he was in the middle of the hall, that something _screeched_ at him.

 _"What the fuck was that!_ "

Zuko, startled out of his mind, darted to the nearest dark corner he could find. It was a doorway, closed and hopefully unused, and he pressed himself into the hiding spot, heart pounding and his breathing ragged. Clutching his hand to his chest, he could feel the sweat pooling as every sense he had started _screaming_. His hearing rung so loud that for a minute, he wasn't sure if some alarm had gone off or not. Everything that rested on his skin was _wrong_ and it made him want to tear and scratch at it, but his body kept him in place, frozen.

The initial wave of panic and certainty of death subsided, and he was left sticky and shaking, hiding from his own crew. Not that he had gotten far, he noted as his mind was no longer filled with intense ripples of static. He was only ten feet or so from his original position, ripe to be found and questioned. Zuko couldn't deal with that, not now. But he was in no state to successfully run away, his footsteps would be too loud, his breathing would be too heavy, something _would_ go wrong. So he waited, and hoped with his entire soul that they'd walk by without seeing him.

Except… they weren't moving. Whatever they had been doing (Zuko was going to have to figure that out later because as far as he knew, they had no reason to up and about at night, or had he just not been paying attention that morning to his uncle?), had been halted. Left with little other choice, Zuko began to listen in, calming down his own thumping heart to try and catch whatever words were being used.

"... _two obvious options at this moment, if what you saw was real_."

He was relieved, at least one of them doubted what was seen. Perhaps the other one would be convinced that their vision had just been playing tricks, not uncommon in dark ships at night, fear tended to get the upper hand in those situations, so it'd be a believable conclusion. Shifting in the slightest movements, Zuko carefully craned his head out of the doorway, and saw that neither of them had apparently moved forward to where he'd been.

"... _the best one in my opinion, is that you were witness to a spirit attack, and now the whole ship is haunted_."

At that, the rest of Zuko's fear sapped, the intense churning energy hiding deep in bones vanished, leaving him empty and exhausted. They were joking, making light of what had happened. He was fine, he was _safe_.

Until that _moron_ spoke up and protested it, and Zuko wondered how he could try and appeal to his uncle if he chucked someone into the sea. Zuko couldn't get away with something like that, not that he wanted to, so he shelved the idea. Those two were still talking, but now… the conversation had taken a turn for the worse.

"... _second option is that you saw the prince. I've met pretty much the whole crew and no one else matches that height_."

Zuko reeled back. He wasn't short! He was still growing, and he had plenty of time to fill out. But, he gritted his teeth, perhaps his full height was relatively… _small_. So he'd been made after all, maybe there was still time to sneak away…

Until, once again, the shouting started and Zuko had to stop himself from slipping and giving away his position. They wouldn't be making such _loud_ declarations if they still thought Zuko was in range. So maybe all he had to do was stay put.

" _Yeah… you probably shouldn't have yelled at him like that_."

Zuko was inclined to agree.

" _It wasn't my fault he was skulking around like some sort of monster from spirit legends! I'm dead, Spirits, I'm so fucking dead_."

At that, his previous enjoyment of being unknowingly vindicated by the other crew member had vanished. Something akin to concern sprouted in his thoughts, and even his denial couldn't poison the roots.

"...Oh, Spirits, there won't even be ashes to send, I'm going to be obliterated. What are they gonna tell my family, 'Hey, there, remember how your son was a military disgrace? Great news, he was such a screw up that the banished prince completely annihilated him!'"

The crew member was under the impression that Zuko would… _kill_ him? He shouldn't have been shocked, he'd heard about some truly cruel commanders. But there was a stabbing sensation in his chest, a pang of… sadness? Zuko shook his head, he should've been _delighted_ at the possibility of having something in common with people so valiantly serving his nation, like he meant to. Even something so… cruel.

The other person started to soothe the panicked crewman, albeit with harsh words and biting sarcasm. They kept going back and forth, the two of them. Zuko was certain it was two by that point.

" _The Firelord has killed people for less, why would his son be any different_?"

Zuko winced, briefly. It should've been true, that he could be like his father, so strong and powerful. But this wasn't admiration, it was _fear_ , plain and simple. A Fire Nation citizen shouldn't be afraid of their Firelord, the person meant to lead and protect. Yet, this soldier _was_. Zuko didn't understand.

"... _you ever heard about the royal capital? The disappearances and executions?_ "

Zuko stilled. His mother came to mind, almost immediately. It was stupid to think none of the public had noticed the _Fire Princess_ disappearing, they were too ~~used to it~~ loyal to say anything. Shoving thoughts of his mother away, even if it hurt so horribly to do so, he focused on the last word: executions. Of course the Fire Lord had to punish traitors, it was needed and expected, but… something once again poked through in the crewman's voice, abject terror. Zuko was uneasy.

" _Growing up with the stories about what happens if you even breathe around the royal family wrong, is… awful. And in the few years Firelord Ozai has been in power it's only gotten worse. I shouldn't even be talking about this, but hey, what have I got to lose?_ "

Shaking his head, Zuko wanted to match over there and give that stupid, traitorous soldier a piece of his kind. Any sort of sympathy had been burnt away by the resurgence of anger. How _dare_ that ingrate disgrace his country by insulting the Firelord! His father was a good leader who was only doing what was best for everyone, and anyone who didn't understand that was a fool. Zuko realized that included himself.

Because as much as he tried to rationalize the Agni Kai, and even though the Firelord was the one who he had insulted, something just felt _off_. Zuko thought he'd been a loyal son, not talented or exceptional, but loyal above all else. So _why_ was he burned and tossed away? Doubts were bubbling and forming at the tip of his tongue, just barely being kept silent, and it wasn't like that before. But that just meant Zuko wasn't as loyal as he could've been, it meant his faith was shakable and now he just had to _prove_ that he understood how to be better to his father. And that meant Zuko had to fix whatever these lies were, the royal family were not _monsters_.

"... _if I go missing tomorrow, just know that I told you!_ "

They were finishing up that awful and partially unfounded speculation, much to the relief of Zuko. Ever so carefully craning his head out of the doorway, he was able to clearly hear them, going back and forth. Joking, even as one was possibly facing certain doom. That was… horrifying to Zuko, somehow. To be so sure of one's death at the hands of a leader and have nothing to say but shoddy quips and one-liners.

" _Sucks to suck, Pikeman Yuuto._ "

Now _that_ was what he'd been waiting for. A name, from either of them, but it sounded like the Pikeman was the one he was after. Hearing footsteps, going off away from Zuko, he waited until he was sure there was a good amount of distance between the offending party and himself. After a few minutes of waiting in almost complete silence, save for the constant hum of the engines and hissing of pipes, Zuko pulled away from his cramped spot.

He needed to go back to his room and wait for his uncle to wake up. First thing first, find out what his crew was doing at night, and second, Zuko needed some time for his idea. He hadn't expected to have to do something like this, and, usually, he wouldn't. As useful as fear could be (trembling servants whisked out of the palace for small mistakes, people that he never, _ever_ saw again), he needed his crew in top shape to hunt the Avatar. They had time before they needed to go to port. This would work, Zuko wouldn't stand for any more slander about his family. What was that proverb his uncle always used, something about catching more bugs with honey than venom?

* * *

It was the next day and when Pikeman Yuuto awoke in his own bed, decidedly _not_ charred beyond all recognition, he was still on edge. The prince wants to make him suffer, to revel in fear before he's smited from the earth. Can he even do that? Yuuto wondered, distant cogs turning in his mind. According to Daitan, the prince isn't the most powerful bender, but then again, he just met her last night, so perhaps he shouldn't be buying into whatever she tells him.

Swinging his legs to the side of the rusty cot he called a bed, his stomach growled and he's forced to leave his enclosed bubble to go face his fate, hopefully with a good breakfast beforehand. Sending a silent plea to Agni (not that his prayers had ever been answered before but hey it was worth a shot), he left for the mess hall.

When he got there, heavy, non-breathable armor and all, it was… normal. No one looking at him in utter horror or sympathy, no one shaking their heads and muttering things about foolish kids, everyone was eating and talking and laughing. Normal.

So maybe his execution would be a low-key kind of deal, he could vibe with that. And, sure, maybe a really, and he meant _really_ , irrational part of him was hurt that he wasn't considered important enough to be made an example of, but he was also just a dirt poor kid from a nowhere town. So it made sense.

"Still kicking, huh?"

He almost leapt out of his skin at the sound, flinching and turning at the same time, before being relieved at the sight of his newly acquired (friend?) ally. Daitan stood there, holding a tray of whatever counted as a meal that day, with a smug gleam in her eye.

"So far." Yuuto grimly agreed.

"Well, considering the circumstances, how about having your last meal with me, among others?" She shrugged, keeping a smidge of humor in her voice.

Ecstatic at the prospect of _finally_ not being alone on this _hellhole_ of a ship, he couldn't hide how vigorously he nodded his head.

He grabbed some… odd rice mixture from Head Cook Namiyo (not like it mattered since he was the only cook), who glared at his offending creation like he was hoping it'd spontaneously combust. The man was touchy about food, like, _seriously_ touchy. But it's not like they had top quality rations or supplies (half the armor was out of date and there was _nowhere_ near enough oil for it all) and the Head Cook was doing the best he could.

Yuuto caught the sight of Daitan's waving hand, and quickly followed it to a more secluded table in the corner. Setting down his tray, the rice(?) jiggling in a very unsettling and gelatinous way, he finally sighed and let his guard down, just a bit.

"I thought there were others?" He said, looking at the Seaman and raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes there are." Daitan admitted, "Gotta be honest, these guys are not the most sociable bunch. But I'm growing on Lieutenant Eiko and the physician, I can tell."

"Also being honest here," Yuuto said, picking up his spoon, "I have no idea who those people are."

"Okay, I'll give you the rundown." She leaned in, a conspiratorial smirk playing on her features, "Lieutenant Eiko is a bit of a loner, nice lady, but doesn't do people. The physician, Asa, is a touchy bastard but he seems to like his job, kind of. They're never in large groups if they can help it, so it's rare to catch them in here."

"Alright." He nodded along, "Anybody else I should know?"

"No one I'm particularly friendly with, except, uh… Maemi." She paused to point out a grease stained figure grabbing two bowls and sprinting out of the room before the cook could notice, "She's probably getting food for her and Riku, they're the two engineers we have. He's a crotchety old man, and he _will_ follow through on his threats to hit you metal objects." She shuddered.

"And Maemi?" Yuuto said, watching Daitan briefly stiffen.

"Oh, uh, yeah, she's, uh… p-pretty neat." Daitan weakly replied, turning away so nothing but the tips of her ears were noticeably red.

Yuuto shrugged and noted it under 'weird things people do'. "Are there any important people I should know?"

Shaking off her little spell, Daitan continued, "Just basics, the acting Captain is Lieutenant Jee, the Hawker is Isao, and the animal handler is Leiko." She wrinkled her nose at the name, "Who's really rude, by the way. She kicked me out of the animal pens, because, and I quote 'they don't react well to stupidity', I told her to shove it and then, well…"

"What?" Yuuto asked, intrigued.

"We fought and I got assigned firewatch for the next three weeks." She groaned, slumping against the table, "Lieutenant Jee's idea of a punishment. It's cruel and unusual, and someone should make a law about it."

"You did pick a fight." Yuuto said, pointing at her with his goopy spoon.

"Nobody got hurt…" She muttered, poking at her rice mash, "badly."

"Still…" Yuuto said, tilting his head, attempting to be polite, "you can't blame him for keeping order, it's not like we can afford to be killing each other."

"Incorrect." Daitan replied, "I can _absolutely_ blame him and I will. And I'm not going to back down if someone insults me."

"It's not backing down so much as not getting in trouble for something easily avoidable." He said, feeling a familiar surge of exasperation rise within him.

"You're a real buzzkill, you know." She muttered, scooping the food into her mouth and swallowing before the taste could linger.

A rueful smile came across Yuuto's face, "I've been called that before."

"Good, and you're going to be called it many more times." She said, before practically chugging the glass of water she had.

"Yay." He deadpanned, feeling the grips of his previous panic fade further.

Putting down the glass to retort, Daitan opened her mouth only to pause. The chatter in the room had died down, putting up her hand to shush Yuuto, she turned and tried to find the cause. Very few things tended to quiet rowdy soldiers that quickly, with her blood pumping faster than before, she spotted it.

The prince. And his uncle, marching towards the cook. Now _that_ was weird. Most people thought they got food privately, they were royalty after all. She glanced back at the Pikeman, whose face had gone ashen in only a few seconds.

"They're not here for you, okay?" She whispered, low and quiet, glancing at him out if the corner of her eye.

"I really want to believe you." He answered, resignation on his face.

There was no use arguing with a self-proclaimed dead man. Typical. People face _one_ obstacle and they fall apart, collapse. That was stupidity at its finest.

Watching them, both soldiers felt a powerful sense of unease as the prince, well, both of them, choppily ordered food from the very alert Head Cook. Prince Zuko, his surprisingly ~~young~~ small face looked almost _surprised_ at the state of their food, began snapping at his uncle as the man tried striking up a conversation with Head Cook Namiyo, who was sweating so heavily the sheen could be seen from across the mess hall.

"They're just here for food." Daitan insisted, hushed.

"Seaman, it's okay." He replied, staring at her with pitiful amber eyes, "I'm an adult, I can handle myself."

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed, "Bullshit. You're fucking eighteen and have no idea how things work. I don't either, but at least I don't pretend I do. You're fine, alright?" She shifted on the bench, "And just use my name, I don't particularly like my title."

"But why wouldn't you like Seam-" He stopped as the dawning horror of realization crossed his face, "Oh, Agni, I'm so sorry."

Snickering, she tilted her head towards him, "I was wondering how long that was going to take."

Burying his head in his hands, he muttered, "I hate language."

"Me too." She offered, tapping the table with her pointer finger.

"Good day."

The raspy, younger voice came from behind Daitan, who turned fast enough to cause the source to nervously shift for a moment. Prince Zuko, almost entirely calm and collected, stood there holding his tray of questionable food. Daitan, desperately squashing every instinct she had, forced her body to remain still.

Tilting her head to show proper deference, accompanied by a bow from the waist, it was uncomfortable at best while sitting down.

"Good morning, sir."

She kept a carefully trained eye on Yuuto, who looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. If he was smart, he'd claim to be sick and go visit the doctor, but she had a suspicion he didn't handle pressure very well.

The prince, his singular pale eye now focused on Yuuto, waited for the shaky man to do the same as her. Bowing, even as he looked like he might chuck whatever food he'd managed to down, he remained silent. He was barely awake, pale and sickly, but he refused to beg. He had his pride, only slivers, but it was enough.

"Good morning, Pikeman Yuuto." Prince Zuko greeted, neutral at best.

Daitan kept calm, her attention constantly shifting between the two of them, trying to analyze or understand, to little avail. She was stupid, and impulsive, that was a fact, but she didn't have a deathwish, at least, not at the moment. Continuing to do the impossible, the Pikeman managed to look even more thoroughly terrified than before.

The prince broke his intense stare, nodded once, and then walked off, stomping all the way until he left out the main door. Fucking weird. This whole trip was just insanely bonkers and this was everyone's life now! She pinched the bridge of her nose and decided to hold off the panic until later.

Turning to Yuuto, who was shivering, she started, "Are you-"

"Sorry about that!" A cheerful voice called out, cutting her off.

Both crew members turned towards the source, and at almost the exact same moment, their stomachs dropped even further than before. General Iroh was a terrifying legend, even if he seemed like a kindly old man. In the Fire Nation looks were deceiving, because _everyone_ could fight tooth and nail, they'd be spitting blood and clawing out eyes until their final breath. And to be so highly revered among them, as the man who'd slain the last of the dragons? His power had to be _devastating_. Yet, he still put up with his angry, stubborn nephew. General Iroh was certainly odd, if nothing else.

"My nephew is an excitable young man." General Iroh explained, "I'm just happy he seems to have taken a liking towards you." He gestured to the human form of a trembling pile of nerves.

"Oh?" Was all Yuuto was able to say.

"Indeed!" General Iroh relayed, looking almost pleased, "He had so many questions about firewatch, I've never seen him so interested in something besides the Avatar. Thank you, something you've done must've stuck with him."

Squeaking, Yuuto replied, "W-Wonderful. My pleasure, sir."

"Well, I must be on my way." The older man said, tilting his head, "Farewell."

"Sir." They both responded, echoing each other.

In tandem, they carefully watched as the general walked away, with slow and measured steps, until he was out of sight. Breaths that they'd been holding were released, and in equally exhausted ways, turned to each other with relief. It took a few minutes to get their pulses in manageable ranges before any words were spoken.

Leaning forward, Daitan whispered, "Dude, what the _fuck_."

Whimpering, Yuuto put his head in his hands, "I know."

"The prince… likes you?" She said, repeating the general's words, "I mean, he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine, but he didn't scream at you, so that's as nice as he gets."

"This can't be happening…" Yuuto groaned, lightly thumping his head on the table.

"I guess he wants to be friends." She said, eyebrows knitted together, "He _is_ a kid after all."

His throat made a strange sort of whimpering, "Friends?"

Patting his shoulder, she sighed, "At least he doesn't want to kill you."

Looking up from beneath his shaggy, dark bangs, he said, "Don't even joke about that, I'm _still_ shaking."

"I can see." She said, raising an eyebrow, "Man, you have some shitty luck."

Making a strangled sound of agreement, he closed his eyes. Pikeman Yuuto was a simple guy, with simple ideas and ambitions. He didn't ask for much, just for life to make sense. But even that was too much, apparently. Rapping his fingers against the side of his head, he breathed in and out, the meditation exercise he'd seen so many times. He just had to get through the day, and then the next day, and the next one after that. Even if this was a pointless mission, it had to end at some point… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko: The best way to fix my family's horrible reputation is by being sociable and nice to this one person
> 
> Also Zuko: has no social skills and has a screwed up sense of 'kindness' due to his family
> 
> Lmao, anyways, this was supposed to be shorter but of all the OC's I've made for this (and trust me there are a LOT), Yuuto and Daitan are probably my faves. A lot of what happens is mostly focused around them being stupid (in various ways) or just having shit luck. Also, ooo, *tragic* backstories (not really but let's just say the trauma they have makes them bond easily)


	3. Training Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter three, probably the last of the 'establishing' chapters, enjoy! This is also probably the most boring one, but rest assured, it starts getting exciting next chapter. Btw! Here's a sketch of Daitan and Yuuto, link [here](https://innogens-breadsticks.tumblr.com/post/622566846258888704/anyways-kind-of-stupid-but-here-are-some).

"What a cute little guy! What's his name?"

Isao bit down a long suffering sigh. He was nineteen, and assigned as the Hawker to _The Wani_. Not that he didn't enjoy handling the birds, as long as you had mutual understanding and respect with them it was easy. But it wasn't something he'd planned on doing for the rest of his life, until, of course, Isao was transferred. It was his own fault, really, but it's not like he could afford to spiral into self pity. 

"Hawker Isao?" Handler Leiko repeated, a curious smile on her face.

"Oh, yeah, that's, uh-" Trying to think of something, he quickly decided, "Flamey."

The bird didn't give a shit. It liked being fed, patted when it wanted to be, and living in a clean space. It didn't care about names, and as long as it kept doing its job and Isao kept doing his, nothing was wrong.

"Flamey?" She said, feeling out the syllables, a frown appearing almost instantly, "That's a bit juvenile."

And _that_ was why, at the eleventh hour in the morning, he felt compelled to chase down every breath with a shot of liquor. The main reason Isao liked his job was the isolation, he had the birds and the birds were _easy_ , actual people were an entirely different level of exasperation. And Handler Leiko was above the rest of her peers in that regard. He had no doubt she loved animals, she was so fiercely protective of the ones she took care of, but she could be so Koh-damned _annoying_.

At first, she'd insisted on them 'hanging out', and Isao was fine with it. Until it was obvious she really didn't care about that, she wanted the _birds_. Her area of expertise were the Kommodo-Rhinos down in their pens, and thank Agni for that, because those things were awful. But that meant Leiko treated the birds like vicious, five ton beasts. Which apparently meant a lot of affection? Affection or not, he thought, the birds hated it. Or maybe he hated it and was just projecting onto them. Either one was a good possibility.

"That's his name." Isao shrugged, lying.

"Really?" Handler Leiko said, before turning towards the bird on its perch and cooing, "You want something better, don't you, sweetie?"

The hawk squawked indignantly, obviously displeased.

"Of course you do." She purred.

Rolling his eyes, Isao turned his attention to sorting the letters the hawks had brought in. Hawk communication was limited to high ranking officers and emergency reports, actual personal letters would have to wait until they were in port. _If_ they even bothered transporting them. As politely as Isao made the request, at the behest of Lieutenant Jee, they were still the ship carrying the banished prince, not even allowed in Fire Nation waters, it was unlikely any of their needs would be met.

"Hmmm, how about Peach? That's a lovely name." Leiko said, scratching under Flamey's chin.

"He likes Flamey." Isao countered, sorting another document into the 'For Jee' pile, it was probably one more letter about how 'supplies were low' and 'non-combatants weren't a priority'.

"Nonsense. He's Peach now." Leiko shot him a glare, as if that made a difference.

"Put Flamey down, you keep touching him like that, he'll poop on you."

It was a low blow, and probably a lie, but it always worked. Retreating from the bird, Leiko watched as Flamey waddled his way over to his cage, among the other hawks and their cages. Nestling a few others, chirping happily and picking at his wings, Flamey settled in, tired after his journey.

"Do they all have names like that?" She said, crossing her arms.

"Hmmm." Isao said, tapping on his chin, "Well, there's Emberino, Sake, Mr. Blaze, Chirpini, and Demon Overlord."

His improv was getting better, something he noted with glee.

"Those are… interesting." She said, not meeting his eyes as she failed to sound convincing.

"Yes, I named some of those after my parents, you know." Isao let the lie slip off his tongue. Keeping a smile from forming was probably the hardest part

"Of course, right. Those are wonderful names." Leiko's tune quickly changed, looking not quite remorseful, but something close to it, "They must be older ones I'm not familiar with."

"Oh, it's no big deal." Isao said, mirth alight in his eyes, "Now, I have to go deliver these reports, and there shouldn't be anyone in here when I'm gone. The hawks get too nervous."

"Right." She said, displeased, "Can't stop you from doing your job."

"Sorry." He lied, again.

"Are you sure, though?" Leiko said, turning to him with an idea on the tip of her tongue, "I can watch them if you want-"

"As much as I'd like that," Isao winced, exaggerating the expression, "it's a rule, you know, in the handbook and everything. So… can I leave?"

"Yeah." She said, not quite through gritted teeth, "Let me get out of your way."

"Many thanks, Handler Leiko." He bowed to her as she trudged out.

Leiko gave a longing look towards the birds, before finally disappearing out of sight, closing the door behind her. Letting out a sigh, Isao leaned against his work table, careful not to crush it. She exhausted him, with her sloppy manipulation and stubborn attitude. After allowing himself a moment of rest, Isao was set back to work.

Scooping up what scrolls he had, Isao grabbed a leather bag, a small brown satchel that had been word down by years of use. He shoved everything in there, careful not to wrinkle or rip the parchment, and closed the bag. Looking around the room, too small to be comfortable and barely large enough for cages and a table, he made sure the doors were latched. The hawks, barely glancing at him, merely settled in with their food and water, pleased.

"Hmm. Maybe I should give you names." Isao considered, tapping lightly on one of the thin metal bars, "It's been a week, at least, and usually most of you are named before I get there."

One looked up at him, black eyes unmoving and unrevealing, and squawked.

"I'll take that as a yes." He replied, taking his hand away, "You're still Flamey, of course. But I'll come up with something better for the others."

Preening under the attention, Flamey went back to grooming his feathers, ruffled and damp from the flight.

"I'll run them by you later." Isao said, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "Bye."

Hustling over to the door, Isao stopped to give a small wave to the birds. So much for not getting attached. He almost wanted to kick himself, the transfer was required, but he didn't have to like it. If he liked it, that meant he was accepting it, living with it. He hated that thought more than anything else. Even if it was a momentary flicker of happiness, it was enough to trigger a wave of longing and rage that wouldn't leave him for the rest of the day.

Slamming the door closed, he could hear the birds jump, and a pang of guilt stabbed his chest. They didn't deserve to be auditory victims of his accidental wrath, they had no part in him getting put here. Isao was just stupid, so _very_ stupid. A combination of being young and in love, all the ingredients needed to decimate someone's life. Shaking his head, he started on his path, clutching his satchel as he headed towards the bridge.

* * *

"I swear to Agni, you have the worst luck I've ever seen."

Pikeman Yuuto grunted what could've been an agreement or a protest, his head lolling to the side as he did. Using the arm wrapped around her shoulder as leverage, Seaman Daitan hoisted his body higher, the weight becoming slightly more bearable. Blowing a strand of matted hair out of her eye, she continued pulling him towards the Med Bay, dead set on getting him there.

It had been a routine sparring session, all the benders had awoken with the sun, and thus, trained in it's early light with vigor and power coursing in their veins. Sparring and practicing was needed to hone skills and sharpen instincts, grueling as it was - and as incompetent as some of the crew could be - it paid off. Daitan had been winning, her eyes alight with the promise of victory and the fire licking her skin only motivated her, when she landed a solid kick on her opponent. The most amazing feeling had overcome her senses as she watched the soldier flail, flames spewing out of their palms in an involuntary panic, and that glorious pleasure had vanished when they had slammed into the patrolling Pikeman, who had just entered the deck and been none the wiser as a flaming person flew into him.

Of course she had dropped everything to help as everyone else looked on in shock, useless idiots the lot of them. Perhaps she'd been more panicked than usual, having been edged on by a guilty conscience more than she would care to admit. The soldier she hit was fine, they looked sore standing up but at least they could. Yuuto had been knocked out, briefly mumbling as his eyelids fluttered, and Daitan had taken the initiative to get him to Asa.

She'd hauled him off the deck, leaving her helmet behind (truly, a tragic loss), and her peers. Someone else would've gotten him, eventually, she could have continued her training, savoring every bit of adrenaline she could. It was common knowledge that benders stuck to together more often than not, they didn't hate non-benders of course, not fellow countrymen, but they just didn't understand the gift of flame. Or that was what Daitan had been told, over and over again as they would move on from things like accidents and injuries.

And yeah, Yuuto couldn't bend, but he was _hurt_ and the insignificant fact that he couldn't carry flame in his palm made no difference in her decision. Had she not known him, would she have scoffed at the incident and went back to their frenzied scuffling like the rest? That was an answer she didn't particularly like. She'd only known the kid a week, and was already getting attached enough to question her ingrained beliefs. That didn't bode well either.

"Come on, chin up." She muttered, the cloth under her armor sticking to her slick skin as she jostled him, "We're almost there."

Groaning, Yuuto's eyes opened for a brief second, unfocused until they landed on her, before losing consciousness once again. He slumped against her, his legs fully giving out.

"What are they feeding you?!" She hissed as she tried not to topple over, catching the sight of someone walking by, someone she knew but was too frazzled to remember, and with no hesitation called out, "Hey! Can I get some help here?!"

The figure stopped, pointing at themself in shock, confusion written clearly on their face.

"Yeah, you!" Daitan huffed, before pleading, "Now can you please get over here?"

Rushing over after shaking out of their fugue state, Daitan was finally able to put their face to a name. The boy grabbed Yuuto's other arm, lifting it over his shoulders much like Daitan had done, and helped to lift him up. She made a note to profusely thank Hawker Isao for the help later on.

"Med Bay?" Isao said, glancing at Daitan.

"Up ahead and to the right." She answered, gaze steadily trained on the door.

Pulling along Yuuto's limp body, it took Isao a beat before asking, "What happened?"

Daitan didn't meet his eyes as she answered, "Training accident."

Shaking his head, Isao replied, "It's always the same."

A humorless laugh ripped it's way out of Daitan's mouth, "Don't we all know it."

Those were probably the words she'd come to hate the most. Those two little utterances swept so much under the rug, hid cruelness and bloodlust behind a veneer of confusion and false innocence, and they all accepted it. No one was immune, not even the prince. They weren't stupid, the prince being banished right after acquiring what had to be a major burn, and the culprit going unpunished? The implications were distasteful at best, if not entirely revolting. But she wasn't a traitor, even if every fibre of her being wanted to protest. She was loyal, she _had_ to be a true Fire Nation citizen in that regard.

"This is it." Daitan grunted, Yuuto's body starting to slide out of her clutches as she gripped tighter than before.

Nodding, Isao pulled more of the Pikeman's weight onto himself, leaving Daitan to knock on the door. She began rapidly pounding on it with absolutely no rhythm, just loud and continuous thuds. Almost immediately they heard cursing flood through the metal and crashing as the person behind it attempted to answer it.

"Agni, I'm coming!" The exasperated voice called out, opening the door, "Just hold on-"

Wrenching the door out of his grasp and throwing it open, Daitan barreled through with Yuuto and Isao in tow. Taking a moment to study the area, smaller than usual but not too inconvenient, and only one or two boxes left - one's contents strewn about on the floor - she spotted what she was looking for. Finding the first cot she could in the room, at the far corner, she rushed over and gestured for Isao to help her. Carefully, they laid Yuuto's body down, letting him slip from their grasp.

Glancing back to the dumbfounded physician, Daitan gave a rueful smile, "He got hurt."

"I can see that." Asa snapped, the bags under his eyes more defined than usual, raising a singular finger towards her, "I just need a minute to process this."

Daitan quietly watched as he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths in and out, his hand refusing to move.

"Okay." He said, his voice much less strained, "Now can you _please_ explain why you decided to try and bust down my door at 5 AM?"

Daitan wildly gestured to Yuuto, "This!"

Asa turned to Isao, who shrugged in response, "I was just in the halls."

He turned back to Daitan, who's breathless anger had simmered down, "Yelling isn't helping, I need you to explain what happened."

As he spoke, Asa started moving, grabbing different items and rifling through his drawers, before shoving his way past the two crew members towards the injured soldier.

"Uh, well," Daitan started, staring in mild shock as Asa pulled a stool next to Yuuto's bed, "we were all sparring, somebody went flying, and Pikeman Yuuto was in the way."

"Somebody just happened to go flying?" Asa said, pausing to stare at her with a raised eyebrow.

"The person they were sparring with was probably just really good." Daitan defensively replied, crossing her arms.

"Or reckless." Asa shrugged, feigning innocence.

Narrowing her eyes, Daitan spit out, "Just do your job, _Healer_."

Rolling his eyes, Asa ignored her jab in favor of examining Yuuto. Carefully, he slipped off his helmet, the boy's short hair sticking up wildly in random directions. Unrolling a new sheet of parchment and smoothing it out on the table next to the cot, Asa brought out an ink container and unscrewed the lid, a pen between his fingers. Swiftly dipping the tip into the dark liquid, his other hand pressed against Yuuto's neck, two fingers feeling for a pulse. After a bit of waiting, he jotted down the information, quickly scanning the body for any further injuries.

"Any known allergies or previous injuries?" Asa asked, looking up at Daitan.

"I've only known him for a week." She shrugged, staring at him quizzically, "Don't you have medical records or something?"

"I'm supposed to." Asa answered, "They were 'misplaced'."

"Shit." She breathed, eyes widening.

"Shit indeed." Asa nodded, "Which is why I've been trying to get the Captain to agree to setting up a scheduled appointment with each member of the crew so I can get some semblance of how to treat them."

"So why hasn't that happened??" Isao spoke up.

"Don't know." Asa said, removing bits of chest armor from Yuuto, "I don't think it's purposeful ignorance. Just a lot of bureaucratic nonsense that has to get taken care of first."

"I'm supposed to deliver these notices to Lieutenant Jee," Isao said, gesturing to his bag, "perhaps I can bring it up?"

"If you could, that'd be helpful." Asa replied, pulling away the chest plate, "Not knowing necessary medical information poses a real problem, as you can tell, and it's best taken care of sooner rather than later."

Nodding, Isao was made resolute in his decision, "I'll make sure to talk to him."

"Excellent." Asa said, leaning over Yuuto's body and and beginning to press on his abdomen, face remaining neutral, he continued to methodically do so until he stopped to write down his findings, "It doesn't seem like he has any broken ribs or fractures."

"That's good news, right?" Daitan said, a relieved smile spreading across her face.

"In a way." He vaguely responded, tilting his head, "However, he still has a head injury, and that's not something to trifle with."

"Well, can't you fix it?" She sputtered, beginning to pace back and forth, "That's what you get paid for!"

Asa looked at her, not showing any emotion beyond annoyance, "The brain is a complicated organ, how it responds to outside trauma varies greatly from person to person."

"In what ways?" Daitan said, continuing to press the issue.

"Mild headaches to concussions to brain damage to… death." Asa came very close to wincing.

"Okay, well, that's not happening." She said, stubbornly refusing the possibility, "Even if you can't fix it, there has to be something."

"I can do my job." He answered, "Now, can you tell me if he was bleeding initially? Has he regained consciousness at all?"

"No, and briefly." Daitan rattled off, thinking back to Yuuto's groggy stare and muttered words, "He seemed pretty out of it, though."

"So he's at least waking up, still not coherent…" Asa relayed the information, turning to his parchment and inking in the notes, he turned back to Daitan, "For now it's best if he rests and when he wakes up, I can examine him for a concussion."

"Good. That's… good." She nodded along, a shuddering sigh of relief slipping out.

"So. My treatment includes him getting bed rest for the rest of today and tomorrow, and then we'll go from there." He grabbed a second piece of parchment, and scribbled a short message on it, before signing it with relish and handing it to Isao, "If you could please deliver that to our Captain, I would be delighted."

"That's what I'm here for." Isao sighed, grabbing the letter and rolling it up, finally tucking it next to the rest in his satchel.

Turning to Daitan, Asa silently considered his options before opening his mouth, "Do you want to stay or should I tell you to scram?"

Affronted, she didn't respond for a minute, "I don't know what you mean."

"Listen, I'm not going to beat around the bush," Asa leaned forward, using his hand to emphasise his words, "you seem to at least like the kid enough to be concerned. I know you can't just skip out on your duties, but if you wanted to stay a bit longer, it wouldn't be a problem. Unless you want me to chase you off so you can convince yourself that you didn't have a choice."

Standing like she'd been slapped, her mouth was hanging open, and her eyes had widened considerably, "What?"

"Those are just the facts." Asa said, raising a singular eyebrow.

In the corner, Isao tried to smother furious giggles, apparently finding her dumbfounded expression hilarious.

"Uh, well first of all, fuck you." Daitan started, pointing at him with as much vigor as she could muster, "And second of all, I just felt bad for the kid, so I'm obviously leaving."

"Bye then!" Asa called as she furiously turned around.

Daitan paused, briefly throwing a glance towards the knocked out boy, before rolling back her shoulders and storming out. Isao finally let out the gales of laughter he'd been repressing, doubling over and clutching his abdomen as he did so. Asa looked on with a smug gleam in his eye as cursing began streaming in from the hallway.

"Kids…" The physician chuckled, turning back towards Yuuto to grab the pen he'd put down.

* * *

After less than two weeks at sea, Lieutenant Jee had decided that teenagers were the root of all evil. That wasn't a particularly easy decision to make, seeing as all his previous dealings with the creatures had been pleasant as a general rule. However, dealing with the spawn of royalty just grated on his nerves in an entirely new and torturous way. At his age, Jee felt that the least the Spirits could do was not make his life exponentially harder than it had to be. Of course, he was wrong, because the Spirits seemed to have it out for _everyone_ , including tired old captains.

When he'd first heard that General Iroh (former general he had to remind himself) had put an emergency call out for soldiers, Jee was unsurprised that his superiors had immediately offered him up. He was aware he wasn't a particularly likeable or easy subordinate, he'd caused enough trouble to know that. They asked for honesty, he gave it, and always got punished. It's not like he had a lot to lose, not anymore, so his behavior had only deteriorated.

General Iroh had probably been the only superior who hadn't been viscerally offended by Jee's constructive criticism, and instead, had actively welcomed it. That time he'd spent serving in the failed siege had probably been the closest thing to enjoyment he had ever felt in his career. Then the young prince had died, and everything crumbled to pieces from there. General Iroh retired, Jee was sent back to being passed around like a hated gift, and Ba Sing Se's continued existence served to mock the Fire Nation. But that was life, and with a sick sense of humor, it had sent him back to serving another crown prince, one without as much likeability or experience.

Trying to plot a course while listening to a child constantly belittle your skills and at the same time dealing with a migraine caused by said youngster, was probably something pulled straight from his nightmares. Too bad it had also come to life.

" _I'm_ in charge and I'm saying we should go this way to get to the Southern Air Temple!" Prince Zuko argued, harshly pointing to the map.

Dragging his hand over his face, Jee wondered if a banished prince could still execute him for treason if he started yelling back.

"Sir," He began through gritted teeth, attempting to keep some sense of decorum, "we can't go that way. The ice flows are known to be deadly, many vessels have run into an unsuspecting iceberg and sunk. While it is the most direct path, it's too dangerous and it would be weeks before the next neutral port. We'd run out of supplies and starve before we could make it back."

The boy was silent before viciously turning and coming up with a seething retort, "Danger isn't a factor, the Fire Lord himself ordered the mission, and as for food, we're stopping tomorrow! So we can get supplies!"

"It wouldn't be enough." Jee shook his head, "Unless you want to overload the cargo hold and sink the ship."

Growling something unpleasant, Zuko tightened his grip on the table, knuckles turning white with the pressure.

"Sir, the risk is too high." Jee tried again, almost with pleading, "Taking the other route would only be a few more weeks, and less likely to result in casualties."

"Shut up!" Zuko snapped, narrowing his eye, "I'll make my decision, and you _will_ obey it!"

Keeping his expression neutral, a difficult task, Jee very slowly nodded, "Of course, sir."

Apparently, Zuko had managed to shake off his uncle, a rare and surprising feat. Unfortunately, that meant the boy was walking around unfettered, without someone to try and smooth things over in conversation. Usually, General Iroh would've stepped in by now, offering tea to all parties and slowly getting the prince to think things through. Without that buffer, things were quickly going to shit, without the reprieve of tea laced with alcohol.

Jee was genuinely considering slamming his head into the table, when he realized someone had come up behind him. Turning quickly, Jee was met with a familiar sight. It was a Hawker, holding a bag of letters, obviously uneasy at being stared down. Not that Jee could blame the boy, it was probably uncomfortable, but he really couldn't bring himself to care.

"Sir," the Hawker started, giving a polite bow, and pulling the letters out of his bag, "the scrolls that have been sent for you."

"Thank you, Hawker…?" Jee trailed off, taking the letters that had been handed to him.

"Isao." Hawker Isao answered.

Nodding, Jee turned back to start examining his next batch of inevitable headaches, his face souring even further with one glance at the seals decorating almost each and every one. High ranking officials, that meant nothing good. Prepped to start reading as the prince stewed in the corner, Jee was put off by the fact he hadn't heard footsteps leaving. Hawker Isao was still there.

Turning around, Jee gruffly asked, "Is there something else?"

Nervously shifting, the boy answered, "Uh, yes, actually."

Waiting for him to continue, Jee waited before rolling his eyes and gesturing for the Hawker to go on.

"Well, I was kind of at the Med Bay earlier," Hawker Isao started, trying not to stutter, "which was because somebody got into a training accident and needed my help, the note from Physician Asa is in there and everything, but anyways," he rushed, speaking quickly and with little pause, "while I was there he mentioned that he didn't have any medical records, because they'd been misplaced. Which is a big problem and this came up when that person was injured and wouldn't wake up, and no one knew if he couldn't have certain salves or not-"

"Is there a point to this?" Jee interrupted, patience having finally run out.

"The point. Right." Hawker Isao nodded to himself, "Uh, well, Physician Asa wanted me to bring up the request he made a while ago. The one about setting up appointments with each of the crew to get their medical history?"

At that, Jee had nothing to say. Since he hadn't even _heard_ about anything like that. Of course, there'd been mountains of paperwork he hadn't gotten to yet, but this took priority.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Was all he could say, a neutral and bland response.

"O-Of course, sir." Hawker Isao seemed floored at the sentiment, stammering his way through the reply.

"If I may ask," Jee shifted, almost uncomfortably, "how is the injured party doing?"

"Oh, um," Hawker Isao said, blinking, "Pikeman Yuuto is doing okay, for now. It's not anything awful, but Physician Asa doesn't know if it's a concussion or not, and won't be able to tell until he wakes up."

"I'll make sure to excuse him from duty." Jee replied, resolute, "Notify me if his condition worsens."

"Yes, sir." Hawker Isao agreed, bowing much deeper than necessary.

"Dismissed." Jee said, turning back as the boy finally thudded his way out of the bridge, the door gently closing behind him.

Sighing, the Lieutenant was left with more problems than he'd started with. That was really just his luck, he thought while finally peeling open the scrolls addressed to him. Scanning through the first few lines, all polite and meaningless words, it wasn't until he was halfway through that anything of substance was seen. And, as expected, it was a carefully worded denial of their requested supplies.

Dropping it, he let the letter flutter down to the table. He considered opening another, but he wasn't masochistic enough for that. He could think on the physician's request for a bit. It was certainly more important than another reminder that this entire ship was forsaken by their own country. It would take some time, but if he pulled an all-nighter, he could have a plan in place by tomorrow's meeting. The crew wouldn't react well to it, to them it'd be another annoyance, Jee would have to make it mandatory, or he'd run the risk of no one showing up.

Figuring out the mechanics of the plan would have to wait until later, right now he had to resign himself to dealing with the prince and a stack of frustrating letters. Picking up one more scroll, he pulled off the wax seal, and unfurled the paper. He repeated the process several times, each instance resulting in a fouler mood than before. That continued until he came upon the last scroll, one not from a pompous general or a sketchy commander, it didn't have a seal, and was instead closed by simple twine. Unraveling it, he opened the letter, and was pleasantly surprised it was from the ship doctor.

Reading it over, it was pretty much what he'd already been told about. It was a recommendation that Pikeman Yuuto be removed from rotation for a few days while he recovered, something Jee was already planning on doing. It was signed with a small message of good health wished upon him, the only positive thing he'd read that day. Putting it down, he gathered the rest of the scrolls, and ordered the nearest soldier to drop it off in his room. He'd hold on to the physician's note, for now.

"Lieutenant."

Jee turned, having heard an all-too-familiar voice rasp the word out. It was much less venomous than earlier, it seemed the surly prince had calmed down enough for a discussion.

Tilting his head, Jee simply answered, "Sir."

"I've made my decision." Zuko stated, puffing out his chest and tilting his head up to look taller, "We'll be taking the initial route, despite it being slower."

Hiding a sigh of relief, Jee nodded, "Thank you, sir."

"I didn't do it for you." The prince hissed, reverting to his usual vicious state.

Ignoring the statement, Jee gave a quick bow to the annoyed royal, who was staring him down with a singular pale gold eye. Exiting with as much grace as one could be allowed in such a situation, he left to inform the Helmsman that they'd be staying on course. Tucking the scroll behind his chest plate so he wouldn't forget it, Jee considered taking one last glance at the prince.

Would he find anything beyond a bratty and immature child? Was he simply a sullen, spoiled prince? But no one so one-dimensional would've been banished. Supposedly, it was weakness that had done him in, which seemed odd to Jee. Children, by all accounts, were immune to being held to such standards. Jee had never judged his own in such a way. And, above all else, Prince Zuko was a child. Considering that fact, the way Zuko seemed to desperately cling to anything that gave him authority made sense, like the boy was trying to relive his life back in the Fire Nation. Even at the expense of himself and his crew.

Ultimately, Jee decided against looking back. His ponderings could be saved for a different time, he didn't have the energy to continue questioning the circumstances of the prince's banishment. Because as difficult as Jee could be, he wasn't a _traitor_. Although, he wondered what it said about his country that questioning the banishment of a kid could be considered a crime. Grimacing, Jee left the room, shutting the door behind him and abandoning his thoughts.

* * *

When Pikeman Yuuto woke up in the infirmary, it was with a resigned acceptance that this was his life now. Groaning, which only made the cotton in his head shift and the ringing grow louder, he tried to peel open his cemented lids, a more difficult task than he'd imagined. Everything hurt, his tongue tasted vaguely of copper, and he couldn't remember anything beyond just finishing his shift. Not a great combination.

Trying to roll over, he realized that most of his armor was gone. He was left with the grey tunic and loose pants that were standard with every soldier. Finally opening his eyes, he found that light had decided it was his enemy, and was currently trying to worsen his pounding headache by stabbing his vision with its intensity. A mutilated whimper escaped his lips, alerting the person in the room of his regained consciousness.

"Good, you're finally up." The healer said (Yuuto assumed it was a healer, who else would be in the med bay?).

"Unfortunately." Yuuto croaked, his hand going to his forehead, wincing with every passing second.

"You sustained injuries from a training accident." The healer spoke, shifting through parchment, "After being knocked out, Seaman Daitan brought you here."

"Hmm. Daitan?" He muttered, woozily trying to sort his thoughts.

Daitan? That seemed familiar, he could almost remember a face going with it. Usually he'd be concerned by now, but Yuuto was too focused on how loud and saturated the world had become, every single element fitting together with such pervasive _wrongness_ that he could barely remember where he was.

"Do you remember her?" The healer started off, pulling Yuuto back in.

Yuuto shrugged, watching the room start to slowly spin, "Maybe?"

Frowning, the man turned away. Did he not like that answer? It's not like Yuuto could help it, the petulant thought surfaced, it wasn't _his_ fault that his thoughts slipped away like sand, and that every time he grabbed at them they scattered even further than before. Guilt began welling up, it probably was Yuuto's fault for not trying hard enough.

"Sorry." He slurred, rolling over.

"Sorry for what?" The man asked, pausing briefly.

Yuuto frowned. Did the healer want him to explain? Well, it wasn't a proper apology if he couldn't name what exactly he'd done wrong.

"Sorry I couldn't 'member." Yuuto said, covering his eyes with his forearm to block out the light.

"It's fine." The healer said, still sounding confused, "I just needed a good grasp on the extent of your head injury."

Yuuto blinked. Head injury? _That_ would explain why everything felt so weird.

"Oh." He mumbled.

"What do you remember?" The man questioned, turning to look at him.

"I think… I'm on a ship?" Yuuto said, digging past the pain, "And… it's a punishment. I did something wrong, so I'm here."

The healer let out a dry laugh, "That sounds about right. Anything else?"

"I… finished my shift." That felt right coming out of his mouth, "And I had gone on to the deck. That's where it ends.''

"That's right." The healer confirmed, "There was a training incident, someone got a little excited with their bending, and their sparring partner collided with you."

"Hmm." Yuuto replied, the back of his head buzzing in unison, "How long 'til I'm better?"

"Don't worry about that." The man quickly responded, "Just focus on resting."

"But… my job." He weakly argued, letting his arm slip away from his head.

"The Captain is excusing you from duty until you recover." The healer tried to comfort him, "You don't have to worry."

"But…" Yuuto protested, trying to sit up.

"Careful!" The healer yelped, rushing over, "Don't over exert yourself!"

Feeling hands on his shoulders, reassuring and gentle, Yuuto let himself collapse back down onto the pillow. It felt wrong, relaxing like that. Even when he was sick, he usually pushed through it, there were too many people depending on him. But it didn't seem like he had a choice this time.

"Any visitors?" Yuuto asked, shapes swimming around in his vision.

"A few." The healer answered, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the delirious boy.

"Okay." Yuuto tried to nod, wincing at the attempt.

"A shift change is supposed to happen soon, so I'm sure some more will come in." The man assured him, turning to grab some parchment and a pen, "Can you answer a few questions for me until then?"

A knock at the door cut off Yuuto's response. The healer, with a confused look on his face, dropped the paper and went to answer it. Yuuto looked up to the ceiling, his eyes slightly less disoriented and fuzzy. He could hear snippets of conversation, hushed and quick. That meant it was important, and Yuuto was being excluded from it. He frowned, he didn't like not being told things.

"Who is it?" Yuuto called out, the words coming out more like 'Whozzit' than he'd hoped.

It was only silence for a moment, before anyone responded.

"You have two more visitors." The healer said, looking displeased, "You up for it?"

"'Course." Yuuto mumbled, propping himself up while ignoring the stabbing pains bursting throughout his head.

"He says it's alright." The healer relayed to whoever was beyond the door, "You can stay but I have to conduct more tests."

"Of course, we wouldn't want to impede you." A familiar voice easily replied, "My nephew simply wanted to see how he was doing."

"Uncle!" Someone else protested, much younger, "I said no such thing!"

Chuckling could be heard from the hall as the door creaked open, the healer standing beside it as two figures stepped through. Yuuto _thought_ they looked familiar, and felt awful that he couldn't place them. Were they important? Just to be safe, he gave a polite bow, managing to hide his wincing.

"How are you feeling?" The stout older man asked, a neutral smile on his face.

"Okay." Yuuto answered, blinking.

"Do you remember who this is, Yuuto?" The healer asked, a curious glint in his eye.

He blanched. "Uh… I just… I don't… I feel like I do but… it just keeps slipping away..."

"That's alright." The healer assured him, "It'll come back. You just woke up so I don't expect you to recall everything."

"Right…" Yuuto tiredly agreed, bobbing his head.

"Can you tell me your name?" The healer asked, grabbing a pen and positioning it over the parchment he'd had out earlier.

"Yuuto." He answered, his eyes half-lidded.

"Date of birth? Age?" The healer continued, marking something down.

"June 26th, 76 AG." He replied, the information came easy, having been drilled into his head with time.

"Okay, good." The healer replied, taking note of it, "Do you remember where you grew up?"

Yuuto had to think for a moment, "It… was an island. Chisai Island."

"Excellent." The healer said, scribbling something down, "Next of kin?"

"My mother and father." He muttered, closing his eyes, "And my siblings, there's four of them."

"Okay." The healer put down the parchment, "Only your more recent memories seem to be affected, but I suspect they'll come back with time. Any nausea or headaches?"

Yuuto nodded. "I don't know about nausea but my head…" Putting his hand up to the side of it, he tried not to grimace.

Sucking in a breath, the healer seemed to dislike that answer, "It seems you have a mild concussion. I'd recommend bed rest for the next week or so."

"A week?!" Yuuto jumped up, only wilting after being struck by a wave of pain.

"It's a brain injury, a bruise more like, it just needs time." The healer shrugged.

Groaning, Yuuto rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wanted to insist he was fit for duty, but his mouth was filled with fuzz and his head felt like it'd gone through several earthbending armies and barely survived. And he apparently had memory trouble. Well… he _did_ feel more sluggish than usual.

"I'm sorry to cut this visit short, but it looks like he's done for the day." The healer spoke up, not looking sorry in the slightest.

"Thank you, Healer." Yuuto spoke out, unprepared for the silence that followed.

The older man seemed to take that as some sort of joke, unable to hold in satisfied laughter. The healer simply rubbed his temples and turned away, muttering under his breath. The smaller boy rolled his eye, already fed up.

"Let's say our goodbyes, nephew." The old man spoke softly once he'd gotten control of himself, directing it towards the silent party.

Yuuto turned his head to truly get a good look. At first, he didn't know what to make of it. Somebody with a shaved head, and massive bandages covering his face, with only one gold eye peaking out, had apparently come to see him. That was just odd.

"You're tiny." Was what he finally said.

The smaller figure recoiled, obviously insulted by his word choice.

"I'm not!" The child(?) insisted as his uncle chuckled.

"You are." Yuuto breathed out as the lights began swimming above him.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you remembered…" The kid… pouted? Was that the word?

"Dunno. You seem okay." Yuuto limply shrugged, as it became harder to open his eyes, without thinking, he snorted, "You look like Iza." The nickname rolled off his tongue, despite two years of disuse.

"Iza?" The boy asked, curious despite the odd look from the two other men.

"Izanami. My… little sister." Yuuto's world grew dimmer, and the smile fell off his face. Sleep seemed so much more appealing than it had a few seconds ago.

"Oh." The boy seemed to slump a bit.

Yuuto's thoughts grew sparse and few as his breathing continued to get heavier, resting his eyelids, the world continued to get tuned out. His pulse slowed as the cotton began to build itself in his ears, he wanted to fight against it, but his energy had been slowly sapped over the course of the conversation. One word seemed to bob right below the surface, Zuko. That had to be the boy's name, the one who acted so much like the bratty sister he'd left behind.

"I wonder… where…" Yuuto couldn't finish his sentence, having been overcome by the inky blanket that crept in on the edges of his vision.

Before he lost consciousness, he swore he heard a soft goodbye from the bandaged child. It sounded… sad. Which was odd because Yuuto had the feeling he didn't know him very well. The part of him that had been trained as a caretaker for sixteen years seized on the urge to comfort him, of course, it fizzled out as more and more of him was lost to a swirling void. Kids shouldn't sound so forlorn, his failing consciousness reasoned, yet he had the distinct impression that the boy wouldn't have enjoyed hearing that. With only that brief realization to comfort him, the last of his coherent inklings were wiped away, and he was lost to the seas of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAO Yuuto's lucky he's not gonna remember that otherwise he'd burst a blood vessel from stress and bleed out. Anyways next chapter is when we finally start getting into some of my planned points. Usually my process is overarching plot with general points on how to get there and then I make up everything else as I go along. I'm not great with planning, but I certainly did a lot of it for this fic, a whole months worth.


	4. Port

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW we are finally getting into some of the stuff that's gonna be important later on. The next one might take a bit since I'm going camping with the family, so... yeah. My Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks, feel free to hit me up. Enjoy!

Zuko tried to stifle how uncomfortable each touch seemed to make him. Unfortunately, the physician seemed too perceptive for his own good, and merely made sure to try and be more gentle. Today was the day that Zuko was supposed to try and open his eye. The mere thought made him uneasy, it was barely after breakfast and he already felt like tipping over with nervous exhaustion.

Currently, Physician Asa was unwrapping the fabric that kept a cloth pad pinned in place, all too aware of Zuko's hidden flinches. Across from them, the Pikeman was resting on the other cot, still knocked out from the previous day. Zuko's focus continually darted around the room, not resting on any one thing. His uncle was there, standing by the door, so he wasn't entirely alone, yet he couldn't help but feel his heart pound with each passing second.

Zuko knew that remaining utterly silent throughout the ordeal would be classified as uncharacteristic, considering how he'd solidified yelling as a large part of his character. But there wasn't anything he could say that wouldn't elicit useless concern. So he sat as still as possible, silently praying to Agni as he desperately wished the experience to be over.

"Alright, that's the last of it." Asa said, sucking Zuko back into reality.

Zuko nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Pushing off from the floor, Asa propelled himself across the room on his wheeled chair (something Zuko didn't even know existed) and grabbed parchment. Wheeling back (Zuko convinced himself that he was absolutely _not_ mesmerized by such a childish invention!), the doctor snatched a pen from the countertop, along with an ink container. Once Asa was back in place, he set his supplies down on the table next to Zuko's cot.

"Are you ready?" He asked, one brow raised.

"Yes." Zuko said, lying.

"Okay." Asa affirmed, nodding once.

Taking a deep breath in, almost like he was mediating, Zuko steeled himself. He was the crown prince, one day set to lead his people, he could not afford to be weak at any moment. As gentle as he could, Zuko began trying to open his eyelid, weeks worth of crust derailing his efforts. He brought his hand up to wipe it away, scowling as he did so.

"Don't!" A fervent cry came from the physician.

Zuko paused, his muscles tight with surprise and breathing heavily. He glared at the culprit, shaking with ~~fear~~ anger. Despite Asa's hands splayed out in front of him, he hadn't tried to grab Zuko. Suspicious.

"What?!" Zuko spit out.

"You can't touch it!" The physician muttered, sighing with relief, "You'll almost certainly infect the area."

"Oh." He dumbly replied, taking a beat to absorb the information.

"I know it's uncomfortable, but please try and open it without using your hand." Asa said, looking at Zuko earnestly.

"I'm fine!" He snarled in response, pointedly looking away.

"I'm sure you are." Asa replied, "I'm just saying."

Refusing to respond, Zuko - keeping his hands clasped tightly in his lap - took another breath before attempting anything else. His eyelid still refused to move, he could only twitch it, the light shifting was noticeable enough even from behind a curtain of skin. Time slid by as he continued his fervent endeavor, all his focus now being poured into it.

Flakes fell down, and without realizing it, his eyelid flicked up. Once his brain started to process it, Zuko was stone still. He'd done it. He'd really done it! Without thinking, he turned to look at his uncle, a smile spread across his face.

He hadn't accounted for the weeks his left eye had spent covered up and forced shut, and in his haste, Zuko hadn't seen the physician begin issuing a warning. All that had mattered was that he hadn't failed, even at so simple a task. And he knew his uncle would be happy for him (not that it mattered, because it _didn't_ ) and every worry had been washed away with a brief childish glee.

"Gah!" Zuko cried out, wincing horribly as light shined into his now unprotected eye.

"Nephew!" Iroh called out, shuffling over.

Despite how badly he wanted to cover his face with his palm, Zuko's hands never moved from his lap, instead clutching at each other with a worrying intensity. He took in several shaky breaths, eyes screwed shut, and grit his teeth, in case anything even resembling a whimper tried to get out. His uncle began to pat Zuko's shoulders, eyes filled with a familiar concern, something the boy couldn't stomach at that moment. He wrenched away, refusing to look at his uncle.

"I should've warned you," Asa started, letting the boy cool down, "it'll take some time for your sight to readjust. It's best to avoid bright lights for-"

"I'm aware!" Zuko interrupted, turning to him with anger (and hurt?) playing across his features, the scarred eye only showing a sliver of itself.

Iroh levelled a very calm glare at Asa, who grew unsettled within seconds.

"I apologize, Prince Zuko." Asa bowed deeply from his spot on the stool, holding the position until he was finished, "I shouldn't have been so negligent."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have!" Zuko hissed, ignoring the involuntary tears that had accumulated in his right eye.

The physician noticed that with a frown. Zuko froze. That wasn't good.

"What?" He asked, his voice no longer hardened with vitriolic wrath, it was something much more his age, full of cracks and unsureness.

Iroh turned to the prince, who hadn't spoken like that in years.

"It's…" Asa hesitated, using it to compose himself, "It's just, I don't believe the tear ducts in your left eye… were unaffected."

Zuko's eyes widened, as much as they could (his left side _burned_ with each twitch of muscle, barely healed skin shifting and splitting over bone).

Gritting his teeth, he spit out, "Explain."

"When you teared up earlier-" Asa put a hand up to stop Zuko's immediate protest at the accusation, "-which is a perfectly natural and expected response to sudden harmful stimuli, it only came from your right eye."

Zuko was struck silent. It's not that he didn't understand - of course he understood, he wasn't stupid - it was about the implications of it all. Was it a message? To never again shed shameful tears like he had at the Agni Kai? Was it a gift? A burden?

"May I examine it? Just to be sure." Asa asked, awaiting Zuko's reply with a curious expression.

"Fine. Who cares." Zuko seethed, refusing to meet his eyes, or his uncle's, which he can feel burrowing into the back of his skull. He slowly opened the burned eye up, light throbbing and shapes distorting as he did so. It was a blurry mess.

Asa didn't react to it. Zuko's noticed that the man very rarely shows unnecessary concern or panic, and if he does, he hides it well. When it slips out… Zuko knows enough to be concerned.

Studying the burn, Asa maintained a decent distance, not once moving too close or too suddenly. Something Zuko very silently appreciated. He was careful with the prince, not in the way you'd treat breakable glass or a pressed flower, but he gave him distance, he didn't invade what little he had left.

Asa pulled away, his neutral mask in perfect order, almost nothing showing through, "I'm sorry, but it seems I was right"

Zuko refused to react, taking the information and the way it messed with his head, and shoving it away for later. For now, he had to remain impassive, or, at least, annoyed. Annoyed was easy, acceptable. Annoyed was not belittled or mocked, it was ignored or acknowledged until it went away. He could be annoyed.

"And?" Zuko knew there was more, there was always more.

"I… was also correct in my earlier idea of nerve damage occurring in the center of the burn." Despite the gap in words, Asa showed nothing beyond a professional veneer, "Your eye doesn't open completely, and although you might regain more control of it, it's likely that there's permanent damage. I should also warn you that your left eye, although not blinded, could still have been permanently impaired."

Zuko sucked in a breath. Asa also doesn't pull punches when it comes down to it. Iroh stilled at the news, and Zuko wasn't sure if it's because of sadness or burning rage. He wasn't sure which he wanted it to be.

"Nephew…" Iroh started, probably attempting something akin to comfort.

"I'm fine!" Zuko yelled, turning and glaring with every bit of soul, even as his skin cracked and oozed down his face.

Iroh stayed passive, silent until he nodded, "Of course, Prince Zuko."

Zuko turned away, he didn't want to see the pity. Even if it was well hidden, it was still there, simmering beneath the surface. Turning to the physician, he levelled a squinty glare at him.

"Anything else?"

Asa shook his head, "That's all for today. Keep applying salve and changing the bandages, further examination can be put off for another time."

"Good." Zuko replied, jumping off the cot.

Making his way to the door, hurrying across the room despite his short stature, he ran out. His uncle quietly sighed and started padding after him, leaving Asa in silence. The door was closed, a loud clunk echoing throughout the Med Bay.

That went better than Asa had expected. Truth be told, he had been hiding burn salve in his uniform in case either Zuko or his overprotective uncle had an unmanageable outburst. In the midst of his thoughts, a rustle of fabric caught his attention.

Sitting in silence for a minute or so, Asa spoke up, "Pikeman Yuuto, I know you're awake."

Rolling over in his cot, the boy in question sheepishly lifted his head up, twitchy and nervous, "Sorry, Healer."

Asa simply sighed, rubbing his face with his hand, "It's Physician - or Doctor - Asa. And I did tell him to keep quiet."

Yuuto nodded, not looking him in the eyes, "I know."

Staring him down, Asa spoke with complete seriousness, "Usually I don't threaten injured patients, but if you speak about what happened here…"

Yuuto's rosy complexion went pale, swallowing, he replied, "Yep, okay. Got it."

Asa's face went back to it's usual neutrality, "Good. Now, how are you feeling? Do you remember waking up yesterday?"

Yuuto, trying to think as his heart still thumped erratically from fear, "Uh… f-fine. And I don't remember much at all."

"As can be expected." Asa nodded, "You slurred your speech and could barely keep your eyes open."

"Oh." Yuuto muttered, alarmed, "I hope I didn't say anything stupid."

Sparing him from the truth, Asa answered, "Not really, you were a pretty good patient."

Yuuto let out a sigh, looking up, he smiled, "That's a relief.." He paused, thinking it over. Looking almost embarrassed, he asked, "Did anybody… visit?"

"A few." Asa noncommittally shrugged, "It was mostly just Seaman Daitan."

"Oh. Really?" He said, obviously surprised by the news, "Huh."

"But I don't think you're getting any today." Asa said, standing up and grabbing anything he'd left out, walking over to the counter to place everything in drawers or cabinets.

"Why?" Yuuto said, glancing up with curiosity.

"We're docking at port. Everybody's pretty excited to get off the ship for a bit." Asa answered, slamming a drawer closed.

"Except me." He groaned, slumping in his cot.

Asa gave the closest to a sympathetic look he could manage, "Yes. It's for your own good, but it's still not fun."

"Yeah…" Yuuto agreed before whipping his head up, "Wait, what about you? Are you going off ship?"

"For supplies, yes." Asa said, before shooting him a very pointed look, "But don't get any ideas, I'm sending someone to watch you."

"Right." Yuuto stiffened, shying away from the physician's gaze.

"Oh, by the way, do you have any allergies or previous injuries I should be aware of?" Asa paused his warning to ask, "No one else could tell me."

"N-No, none that I'm aware of." Yuuto stammered out, "And I'm not injured easily… most of the time."

"I'll make note of it." Asa replied, no longer emanating such a terrifying aura.

It was silent for a while, unbearably stiff as the Pikeman watched Asa sort different supplies and write down notes. It looked like some form of taking inventory, Yuuto's best guess was that it was so the physician would know what to buy at port. Port… such a tantalizing place for somewhere usually looked down upon. He'd hated the seedy ones in the colonies, full of crime and rebellious mutterings, things so oppositional to his Fire Nation blood that he could barely stand it. Now, it was basically a safe haven, anything was better than another night on the Rustbucket. And he couldn't even go!

"So… what am I supposed to do for a week?" Yuuto caved, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Closing a scroll that he had opened, Asa swiveled his gaze towards the seated boy, raising a singular, thickened brow. The scroll he'd unceremoniously rolled shut was labeled 'Understanding the Basics of Brain Trauma', and Yuuto felt a familiar bit of guilt wriggle its way into his core. Setting down the document on his now meticulously organized counter, Asa looked thoughtful for a single moment.

"The idea is to get you slowly reintroduced to your daily life after a recuperation period. Which, judging by how lucid you seem, is probably only going to last until the end of today. After that, we'll start with reading and basic exercises to make sure your cognitive function is up to par. Hopefully, with no setbacks, you'll be good to go within a week."

Yuuto blinked. He wasn't expecting something so... in depth. Usually, people didn't do that for him, much less take him seriously enough to even consider truthfully answering it. He wasn't someone people saw as anything other than a naive kid.

"Oh, that's… good." Yuuto said, his voice unsure.

"I'd expect it to be." Asa very softly chuckled, a barely noticeable hitching of breath, "It _is_ the standardized treatment for concussions after all."

Yuuto meekly nodded, rubbing the back of his head, his short spiky hair wildly sticking out in clumps. He wrinkled his nose as he felt it. He really needed a shower at some point.

"When can I uh… get a chance of clothes?" He tentatively asked, willing to push a bit more, "Or take a shower?"

"I can ask for some new clothes right now, but the shower will have to wait until we're positive you can do it on your own." Asa answered, "Assuming you want to."

"Of course I want to do it myself!" He almost shrieked, viscerally offended by any assumption otherwise.

"So be it." Asa replied, ignoring the outburst.

"Good!" Yuuto sputtered, face streaked with bright scarlet.

"I'll be off now." Asa informed him, having scribbled what seemed to be a list on a small bit of parchment, "Someone will be by to check in - _with_ a change of clothes - so don't leave."

Yuuto glumly agreed, "Alright."

Putting all the needed supplies in a bag, Asa hummed very lightly as he slung it over his shoulder. Stepping over to the doorway made of jutted metal, he put one hand on the handle, pulling it open. He paused, turning back to Yuuto, who'd been sitting up in bed and watching the entire process.

"Goodbye, Pikeman." Was the last thing Yuuto heard before the door shut, leaving him relegated to a boring, lonely afternoon.

* * *

"I'm serious! How much change can you spare?!"

Isao really felt like the shaking was entirely unnecessary, and way overboard. Then again, when had any of his fellow crew members done anything in moderation. He just wanted a nap. And to never talk to another person again. That sounded wonderful.

" _Why_ do you need my money?" He enunciated, for what felt like the tenth time.

"Agni, you're difficult!" Seaman Daitan groaned, making a show out of rolling her eyes, "It's for the strawberries, okay?!"

"What the-" Isao raised his voice, pinching the bridge of his nose, " _Why_?"

Daitan wildly waved her wands around, "Just - I need them!"

"You don't!" Isao insisted, pointing at her, "How many are you even planning on getting!?"

"I don't know!" She hotly replied, "A few pounds, maybe?!"

Taking a deep breath, Isao reminded himself that murder was frowned upon when it came to annoying colleagues, "What you want with several pounds of strawberries is not my concern." Isao said, turning on his heel to go find some supplies, or anything that would catch his eye. Maybe even some theater scrolls if he was lucky.

"Dammit!" Daitan cursed, grabbing his arm before he could walk off, "I'll tell you, but you can't let _anyone_ know, okay? Or my ass is toast!"

With a smug smile on his face, Isao turned back towards her, leaning his head in. Gritting her teeth, and clenching her fists, she took a step closer. She whispered something in his ear, and his eyes grew wide, first with shock, and then with complete and utter compliance.

"How much?" He asked, digging into his chest plate for the last dregs of his salary.

"As much silver as you can spare. That should be enough for a few more pounds." She replied, a maniacal grin spreading across her face.

"Okay." He handed the coins to her, before pulling them out of her reach as she made a move to grab them, " _If_ you make sure I can have some once it's ready."

"You're a greedy fucker, you know that?" She hissed, before sighing, "Fine! You'll get priority."

Clinking as they fell into Daitan's palm, the coins gleamed in the pure sunlight. It was a beautiful day for docking in port, and she wasn't one to miss an opportunity where she could find one. Even if they were constantly getting side eyed by the locals.

"Pleasure doing business." Isao said as a goodbye, throwing his hand up as he started off towards a stall that had caught his eye.

"Eat shit." She mumbled under her breath, shoving the spare coin behind her own armor.

"Language, Seaman Daitan."

She involuntarily stiffened at the stern tone, her stomach dropping to what had to be the ground. Slowly, Daitan turned, trying to prepare herself for any possible consequences.

"Lieutenant Jee! Funny seeing you here." Daitan forcibly chuckled, hoping her sweat wasn't as obvious as it felt.

Judging by the raised eyebrow, along with a displeased glare, the man was not amused. More like… annoyed. Well, better annoyed than outright pissed. Although, it certainly didn't help that he was accompanied by two masked soldiers, eerily staring her down.

"You didn't expect to see any crew members… at a port… where the boat is docked." Jee maintained steady eye contact, trying to wear her down.

"Well, it's just so… big." She weakly finished, attempting an innocent smile. It felt all sorts of wrong.

"Right. I have to go take care of some red tape." He said, not believing her for a second, "Don't do anything stupid."

"What? Me? Never." She tossed her hand out like he was joking, when he most certainly was not.

"Just a reminder, Seaman Daitan, you can still be demoted if you violate any rules." He gruffly informed her, before turning around to take care of whatever business that required such a callous attitude.

Watching him walk away with his small band of toadies, creaky armor and all, she made sure that he'd turned a corner several stalls away before cursing him out in whispers. Stomping away, reminiscent of the brat himself, she continued her hushed angry ranting. It wasn't until she'd discovered a cart promising a sale of a certain fruit that she paused, devious smile returning.

* * *

"I made this request two _weeks_ ago." Lieutenant Jee insisted, hunched over the counter with his hands splayed across it, growing more and more displeased.

"I apologize, sir." The bored soldier behind the wooden slab separating them replied, studying her nails and refusing to meet his eyes, "But we don't don't have any supplies reserved for one 'Lieutenant Jee'." She let the title fall out of her mouth so easily, dripping with annoyance 

"The sign outside says otherwise!" He gestured wildly to the sign that read ' _Fire Nation Military Supply Center_ ', despite being at a 'neutral port', the Fire Nation outpost was close by, "I made sure to send several letters to this location, detailing that my vessel would be in desperate need of food and decent armor. Where's your commanding officer?"

Eyeing him with contempt, she sighed and heaved herself from her position, "I'll go get him, sir."

Gritting his teeth, Jee answered, "Thank you, it's much appreciated."

He could see the soldier roll her eyes, his blood pressure spiking to dangerous levels at the same time.

"I'm not sure you needed to yell at her." A voice commented from behind him.

"With all due respect, Lieutenant Eiko," Jee started, as he turned around to face her, "I believe that was perfectly reasonable."

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Eiko placidly replied, bowing from her waist, "It was just my opinion."

"And I'm grateful for it," He said, feeling exhaustion creep into his bones, "but there's no time to be polite when we're running out of food."

"That's understandable." She nodded, "However, she really is just doing her job."

Jee considered her words. Lieutenant Eiko had also been considered for the position of Captain for _The Wani_ , but ultimately Jee had been selected. They both had the same amount of experience, with the same kind of difficult track record. In all honesty, the decision had probably been made by tossing a coin, it wasn't an important one to the people who'd made it. Still, Jee was determined to do his job, so he valued input (preferably not of the yelling adolescent kind). Eiko seemed to be a calm person, not one for confrontation, which was surprising considering where she was raised.

"I'll consider it, Lieutenant Eiko." Jee finally said, "Thank you for your input."

"Happy to help, sir." Eiko replied, bowing once again.

She also seemed big on manners. Odd, considering Eiko was also supposed to be 'insubordinate'. But, looking her in the eyes, she was earnestly saying it. Studying the scar that ran through her eyebrow down to the middle of her cheek, turning one eye into a milky pool, Jee decided that he liked her. Eiko would be a valuable crew member, and he could probably trust her to handle important tasks if he delegated them.

Turning away, Jee saw that the soldier from earlier had come back, with a displeased officer in tow. Great, yet another headache with legs. He shoved down a self pitying sigh, and steeled himself for the inevitable screaming match. He'd gotten good at those, thanks to the prince.

"Thank you for meeting with me." Jee bowed, polite and stiff.

"Major Takeshi." The man grunted, pointing to himself. "What do you want?"

"Well, Major Takeshi," Jee started, trying to maintain a veneer of calmness, "I made a request almost two weeks ago for supplies. My vessel needs them for our mission."

Pausing, Major Takeshi looked at him with barely registered surprise, "You don't happen to be from the _Wani_ , do you?"

Jee stiffened. That wasn't a good sign, if the name of their ship had already spread this far, then there'd be almost nowhere they could go without scorn.

"I am, sir."

"I got a report about you folks." The major narrowed his eyes, voice now irritated and distrustful, "Lieutenant Zhao said you'd probably be by.

Fuck. That was a name no decent navy officer _ever_ wanted to hear. The Spirits really did have it out for him.

"Did he?" Jee said, smothering panic as soon as it set in.

"Says you're carrying the weakling prince," The major tutted, a sneer marring his already unfortunate face, "and that you're all a bunch of free-loading fuckups."

If Jee had ever considered sicing said 'weakling' prince on someone, it had certainly come to mind at that moment. He glanced back at the two people that had accompanied him, Lieutenant Eiko and Helmsman Kosei. The later of whom looked uncomfortable and embarrassed, and had turned away from Major Takeshi. Lieutenant Eiko, however, let her face go entirely still, as if it were set in stone. Turning back to the arrogant pile of shit that called himself a person, Jee took in a deep breath, and set his steely gaze upon the two soldiers, prepared to lie, manipulate, and threaten his way into being able to eat for a few weeks.

"Are you aware who else is accompanying Prince Zuko?" Jee began with a small, evil smile.

* * *

It had been hours since the physician had left him alone, and Yuuto had grown desperately bored. He was on the verge of tearing out his own eyes if it meant that he no longer had to look at the room he'd been practically confined to. Initially, he had taken a nap, but that'd only lasted an hour or so, leaving Yuuto much grumpier than before. Then he'd dug around in Asa's drawers to try and find something to do, ending up finding a collection of medicinal scrolls. He'd gotten two lines through one labelled 'Basic Salves' before being completely baffled by every word he'd come across.

And it's not like there was anything else in the cabinets he could touch without being yelled at. Shivering, he remembered the dead-eyed stare he'd gotten when Asa had thought he'd gossip about Prince Zuko.

When he'd first seen the bandages adorning the prince's face - covering it so perfectly that it almost seemed like another new ridiculous fashion trend from the Caldera, if it hadn't been for the lingering smell of burnt flesh - Yuuto's stomach had done a fun little number where it felt all twisted and sick, refusing to properly digest anything he'd eaten afterwards. Of course, when he'd first heard the news that the prince had been _banished_ of all things, shock had overtaken his very being. Prince Zuko was revered as the next in line for Firelord, despite his less than stellar reputation for bending and his supposed poor aptitude for the job. So Yuuto hadn't quite expected… that.

As much as his curiosity begged to know more, Yuuto firmly refused it. He didn't want to know. The prince couldn't have gotten such a severe injury - a _burn_ \- without something having terribly gone wrong. He could try and comfort himself with the words 'training accident' but he knew they were hollow lies. Nonetheless, he'd cling to them. If he didn't, well, then he'd certainly be executed much quicker than whatever the prince already had planned.

The prince, a dastardly figure in Yuuto's mind, seemed to revel in being disliked. At least that's what Yuuto thought. Why else would he yell and berate almost everyone he would come across? _Including_ the feared Dragon of the West. Prince Zuko's confusing motivations aside, Yuuto was certain that the boy would hate it if anyone else besides General Iroh and Doctor Asa found out such specific details about his wound, his explosive temper was sure to go off the charts. Gulping, Yuuto doubled down on the decision to never speak about what he'd overheard.

In the midst of his panicked thoughts, the latest terrible what-if was building up when a knock on the door cut it off. Yuuto almost jumped out of his cot, wildly looking around for the source, before finally finding it and mentally kicking himself. Releasing a breath to try and calm down, he wondered who it was.

"Coming in." The voice called out, apparently for Yuuto's benefit.

The door clicked, and it was opened, a fully armored person stepping through. Without a helmet covering her head, the scar cutting through her face was obvious, and Yuuto quickly averted his eyes from it. He tried to focus on more asinine details, like the low ponytail she held her chestnut hair in, streaked with grey, or the barely noticeable freckles dotting her hands, and probably her face.

"Hello, Pikeman Yuuto. I'm Lieutenant Eiko, the one Asa sent to check in with you." Lieutenant Eiko gave a cursory bow, and Yuuto had to stifle his surprise.

"Oh, um. Hi." He finally ends up saying.

Looking almost amused, she held out a pile of clothes, "I have some new clothes. I heard you requested them."

"Oh, thanks!" Yuuto immediately brightened, jumping out of the cot to accept them.

"I also spoke to Asa, and he thinks it would be alright if you came to the mess hall for mail call." She said, dropping the dark grey pile into his hands.

"Mail call?" Yuuto paused, looking up with wide eyes.

"At port, Lieutenant Jee managed to get the letters addressed to the crew, despite some… outside interference." The humor on her face was evidence of some joke that Yuuto wasn't privy to, and probably never would be.

"We have letters?" Yuuto's face briefly fell, "Sorry, I don't think there's gonna be any for me."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Lieutenant Eiko said, stepping back towards the door, "Besides it'd also be a chance to go interact with everyone."

"I guess…" Yuuto muttered, drooping as she stepped through the doorway.

"I'll be right outside." She called, closing the door, "As soon as you're ready we can go."

"Right…" He sighed, examining the clothes he had clutched to his chest.

Staring at them, a familiar bland get up he'd worn for years, he dropped the pile on the cot and began getting dressed. Taking off his dirty outfit, he wondered briefly where he should put it, before eventually deciding to just drop it on the cot as well. It took a few moments to pull the new uniform on, he was glad to see it wasn't too tight, although it didn't fit perfectly, Yuuto didn't mind.

After slipping on some slightly oversized shoes that had also been in the pile, he stepped over to the door. Taking a deep breath, reminding himself not to get that excited, before putting his hand on the handle and turning. Opening the door, he went through, a little wary since he hadn't left the infirmary in two days.

Eiko stood beside the door, arms crossed, obviously waiting for him. Her stance was still firm, completely unwavering, years of practice behind it. Even her face was entirely indifferent, carefully composed with time and effort, and Yuuto knew enough to be cautious around her. As polite as the older woman seemed, it was common knowledge that anybody like that in the military was someone to fear. It was harder to know what they were truly thinking, which meant that they were a particularly ruthless and manipulative kind of leader. Great, he thought to himself, another person to be scared of.

"Ready to go?" She asked, tilting her head towards him.

"Yes, sir." He nodded, reeling in his relaxed demeanor.

"Excellent." Lieutenant Eiko serenely smiled.

Yuuto hid a shiver. Her gaze held a quiet intensity, ripples of thought beneath the veneer of a peaceful surface. It was unnerving to say the least.

She started off down the hall, without so much as a warning. Yuuto, gathering what wits he had, hurried after her. He let her take the lead, having no particular desire to walk next to her, and had a sinking feeling that doing so would be taken as a challenge. Maybe he was getting paranoid.

The next few minutes went by in relative silence, with only their footfalls and Lieutenant Eiko's heavy armor filling the void. Despite the suffocating atmosphere, and Yuuto's attempts to keep the subject out of his mind, the possibility of getting a letter kept popping up. It was a foolish idea to feed into, considering how he'd dishonored his family. Yuuto understood that his rash decision had consequences, and he knew his parents wouldn't tolerate his actions. Still… being cut off would hurt. That was inevitable.

Not that he'd gotten a lot of letters during his time with the military, his family was really busy, and they knew he could take care of himself. Still, they'd always made sure to send him at least one every few months. Mostly updates about the fishing business, his siblings training results, and just general events. They'd probably gotten a letter from the Fire Nation military by now, detailing his shameful behavior and labeling him a disgrace. Even if he did come home, he wasn't sure he'd be welcomed back there. He shook his head, this was no time to dig himself out of a mental hole he could never climb out of. Yuuto tried not to focus on the 'mail' part of the expedition, and rather on finally getting out of the stuffy infirmary. Now _that_ was a definite silver lining.

"We're here." Lieutenant Eiko's voice piped up.

Yuuto paused, wildly swinging his head around. Surprise overtook him as he was faced with the overarching hole in the metal wall that stood in front of them, it's wide berth giving ample space to study the mess hall. It was the largest room on the ship, though, that didn't mean much when the ship itself was unusually small. The inside was made up of dreary metal sheets, beaten and bent into perfection, bolted together with the same attitude. Cheap metal tables sticking out from the floor - nailed down to become a hackneyed addition to the interior - lined the inside. The far wall had a small metal opening four feet off the ground, elongated and flat so they could grab the meals that were ready to go. Behind it was the kitchen, where Head Cook Namiyo stayed most of the time, content to be locked away from everyone else.

"Go on in." Lieutenant Eiko said, "I have some business to take care of."

"Really?" Yuuto asked, turning to her with furrowed brows, "But I thought you had to-"

She gave him a _look_ and he quickly shut up.

"Right. Okay, see you later." Spilled from his mouth, the words coming out almost incomprehensible because of their speed.

He started quickly walking into the mess hall while waving goodbye, exhaling pure relief once he saw Lieutenant Eiko step away. Turning back around, Yuuto stopped, eyes darting around the room to find a relatively empty spot, or a familiar face. Finally, his luck seemed to turn up as he found an area that met his criteria. In the same spot as always, Seaman Daitan sat there, chatting up another crew member.

Bounding over with bursting excitement, Yuuto dodged and weaved past soldiers staring with mild distress before scrambling to get out of his way. After bumping into a particularly tall crew member and squeaking out a 'sorry', Yuuto had finally made it to the table. Panting heavily only a few feet away, he leaned back with his hands on his hips before sauntering over.

"Yo!" He called out, raising his hand out in greeting.

Turning to face the voice that had interrupted her, Daitan had a curse on her tongue and fire in her blood, before seeing that it was someone she knew, "Yuuto! I didn't know that Asa let you out."

"He gave the okay since it was for 'mail call'." Throwing up air quotes to sell his nonchalance on the subject, he shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah…" She winced, rubbing the nape of her neck, "You actually missed that part."

He stiffened, "Ah, well, I can still hang out."

Daitan looked up with a quirked eyebrow, the left one that had a slit dividing it, "You're not curious if you got anything?"

"I probably didn't." Yuuto answered, not meeting her eyes.

"Well, that sucks." She muttered, face stony with sympathy, before breaking out into a wide grin and pulling out something that had been tucked in her armor, "'Cause you're wrong!"

His body completely froze at the sight, in complete disbelief, "I-Is that-"

"A letter addressed to one Pikeman Yuuto?" Daitan finished for him, her voice bouncy and confident, holding it out in front of her, "Yep, no need to thank me."

He snatched from her palm, gaze constantly flipping between her and the scroll, "Why do you have it?"

Daitan rolled her eyes, "I didn't know that Asa would finally relax and let you leave, so I didn't think you'd be here. I was holding onto it until I saw you again."

"Really?" He said with wide eyes, suppressing an involuntary grin.

Daitan shrugged, "Of course. It's not like I had any other use for it."

"Thank you." Yuuto said, bowing, "You have no idea how much this means."

Daitan grimaced, "Stop being creepy and just sit down already, that's just fucking weird."

Yuuto huffed, "It's the proper way to show thanks, I was being polite."

Daitan scoffed, "Colony girl here, I don't know the first thing about mainland manners."

Yuuto squinted at her as he slid into a seat across the table, "Really? What about your parents?"

"My mom didn't really give a shit about teaching me stuff like that." Daitan explained, propping her head up with her hand, "As long as I had the attitude of a 'true Fire Nation citizen' I was good."

"Oof." Came out of his mouth, and he internally cringed.

"Yeah, 'oof'." She mused, before remembering that there was someone sitting next to her, Daitan turned to introduce them, "Oh! This is Private Minato, I met him the other day. Private Minato, this is Pikeman Yuuto."

Private Minato stared in mild annoyance, his choppy, poorly cut hair getting in the way. He was young, Yuuto noted, as in almost as young as the prince. That didn't settle right in his gut.

"How old are you?" He asked, feeling slightly hypocritical.

"Sixteen." Private Minato spit out with a cracking voice, narrowing his eyes, "How old are _you_?

"Eighteen." Yuuto replied, looking at the kid with complete disbelief. There was no way the brat was legally old enough to be in the military. Then again, neither was Prince Zuko, and everyone let him give orders.

"Hmph." Private Minato turned away, apparently content to stare at the wall.

"Anyways…" Daitan interrupted, stretching out the syllables, "are you gonna read it?"

Yuuto blinked. Right. The letter. "Yeah, just gimme a sec." He undid the string keeping it rolled tight, "Have you read yours?"

"Yeah, it was just something from my bratty cousin." Daitan waved her hand like it was nothing, "He's got in his head that since he joined the military like me, that it makes us friends."

"Well," Yuuto said, unraveling the inked parchment, "he _is_ your cousin."

"A pain in my otherwise perfect ass is what he is." She retorted, rolling her eyes.

"That's rude." Yuuto chastised, smoothing the letter out on the table, "It just sounds like he looks up to you."

"Shut up." Daitan said, before leaning over to try and read the parchment, "What's it say?"

"Well, it starts off with 'Dearest Agni-damned idiot with shit for brains'." Yuuto sighed, "Sounds like it's from my sister."

"I like her already." Daitan grinned, dangerous and self assured.

"You two would get along like a house on fire." Yuuto shuddered.

"Go on." Daitan shooed him with her hand, as he shot her an annoyed look.

"'Hey there moron,'" Yuuto read, "'I heard you did something really dumb. Mom and Dad said not to write to you anymore, which means it was probably really bad. They won't tell me, and it's pissing me and everyone else off, so I said fuck 'em and decided to send you this. You better explain because it sounded like they were'…" Yuuto trailed off, looking uncomfortable, "I'll just skip this part."

Daitan nodded, completely silent.

Yuuto awkwardly coughed, and found a new place to start reading again, "'...anyways back to me. Before you write back with any of your dumbass questions, I'm telling you that everything is fine. The island is find, our stupid tiny town is fine, and everyone is fine. There, now you _have_ to write about something else.'"

"Wow, your own family thinks you're boring, glad it's not just me." Daitan interrupted, eyeing him with humor.

He put down the letter to shoot her an annoyed look, before turning his attention back towards it, "'I should also let you know that I…'" Yuuto's eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and began stammering.

"What? What is it?" Daitan leaned in, forehead wrinkling.

"Sh-She… she joined the army!" Yuuto sputtered, dumbfounded.

"Oh. Good for her." Daitan said, blinking.

"She can't be-" Yuuto muttered, running his hand through his messy black hair, "I could've sworn-"

Daitan raised an eyebrow as she brought a glass of water to her lips, "What's wrong?"

Yuuto stared at the table, forlorn, and whispered, "I must've missed her birthday."

"Oh." She paused, looking stiff, "Um, that sucks, man. I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's not your fault!" Yuuto shook his head while waving his hands in front of him, "I guess… I just lost track."

"Still…" Daitan trailed off, half wincing.

"I was just surprised is all." Yuuto smiled weakly, "I could've sworn she was just fourteen."

Daitan chuckled, "Yeah, but now she's almost grown up and everything. What's her name?"

"Izanami." Yuuto replied, looking touched that Daitan was taking such an interest "She's named after some goddess. That went to her head pretty quick."

Daitan snorted, amused, before freezing. She pointed at the back of the scroll, "Hey, there's something stuck there."

Yuuto flipped over the letter and pulled the new sheet of paper off, "Weird…", flipping the blank side over, his breath hitched.

Daitan sighed, "I'm getting sick of asking this, but what is it?"

"It's a, um, portrait." He said, shaken, "It's this stupid tradition my family does, where whenever someone goes off to war, they pay someone to draw all of us together, while the person's in uniform. It's not, like, full color or anything - definitely not with what we make - just an ink sketch. We have an album of them, must be dozens by now."

"You have one too?" Daitan asked.

"Of course!" Yuuto replied, wistfully looking at the parchment, "My boots were too small and I thought I was going to pass out before the guy finished."

"Weird memory to be attached to." Daitan muttered, sipping her water.

"Well, it was an important day!" Yuuto defended himself, "I just can't believe she'd send me this. Iza either bought another copy or sent the original, either is pretty odd for her to do, especially since..."

Glaring at him and pointing, Daitan warned, "Finish your fucking sentences, this mysterious shit is _not_ a good look for you."

Yuuto rolled his eyes, "Here." He slid the drawing over to her.

Smothering an insult, Daitan snatched it from the table, and held it up to get a better look. The drawing showcased almost a dozen or so people standing together, empty faces with no emotion, a standard for portraits. Ages ranged from young children to what looked to be an elderly man, all crowded around a young girl in standard Fire Nation armor. Next to her, was a crudely scribbled figure, in the same uniform, with a grotesquely large smile in place.

"Is this supposed to be you?" Daitan asked, disbelieving.

"Yeah." Yuuto smiled, eyes glistening and his cheeks flushed with color.

"Don't get so emotional." Daitan said, dropping the portrait, "She's trying to insult you, that's a pretty awful likeness."

"No," Yuuto shook his head, voice cracking, "she's just really fucking bad at drawing."

"Agni, you're a mess." She winced, handing him back the sketch.

"I just can't believe it, you know?" Yuuto subtly wiped at his eyes, "I was there for her whole life, she's always been such a mouthy asshole, but she's still a kid to me. A kid who's got her first posting!"

"Really? What's her assignment?" Daitan asked, interest piqued.

"Ah…" Yuuto muttered, grabbing the letter to find where his sister had mentioned it, "Hmmm..."

"I'm waiting." Daitan reminded him.

"She said she was being shipped out in a few days." He said, relaying what he'd read, "With her division."

"Oh, which one?" Daitan asked, yawning.

Grumbling and studying the letter, Yuuto was fully absorbed, ignoring the outside world. Daitan, amused and no longer worried, let her eyes flick over to Private Minato, who was still engaged in an intense staring contest with the wall. She saw Yuuto look up from the letter, with bright eyes and a wide smile, and waited for him to speak.

"The 41st!" Yuuto chirped, grinning, "She's in the 41st Division!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooo spicy. I told you he wasn't done being the punching bag, though the situation certainly reaches farther than just him. I do feel really bad killing off a girl for his development, but it's also war? War doesn't care, it takes the young and old and anyone in its path. And the choice to make her his younger sister instead of brother wasn't purposeful, I just wanted to split the casualties equally, and that's just how it ended up. Anyways, I hope you all liked reading this, and good night!


	5. Cosmic Coincidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I managed to get this out despite the camping thing, enjoy! In other news a mosquito bit me on the lip? It's very inconvenient but whatever. My Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks, feel free to pop on over!

"The 41st…" Daitan mulled the name over, certain she'd heard some mention of it before, "Oh!" She turned to Yuuto with a wide grin, "That's the division my cousin's stationed with!"

"Neat." Yuuto commented, "I wonder if they know each other."

Daitan scoffed, "There's about ten to fifteen thousand people in a division, so probably not."

He visibly deflated, "It wouldn't hurt to ask."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, I'll write to him, and you can write to your sister, and we'll send the letters at the next port, okay?"

Yuuto immediately brightened, "Sounds good!"

"Fuckin' nerd." She mumbled semi-affectionately.

"That's rude." He chastised, "This is why you have trouble with your commanding officers."

Daitan paused before looking up and saying, "Like you can talk."

Yuuto raised a finger before pausing, "You know, I actually can't. Well played."

"Cheers, smart guy." Daitan laughed, lifting up her glass of water and bringing it to her mouth, throwing back the last few drops.

"Hardy har har har." He mimicked sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Besides that weird cosmic coincidence," Daitan said, leaning over the table, "any other plans for the rest of the night?"

Yuuto, in a very unprofessional manner, flopped onto the hard surface, "No… I think I'll have to go back to the infirmary and stay there another few days."

"That sucks." A voice quipped, short and genuine.

Private Minato, who's attention had slowly been captured by the conversation, shifted slightly. He didn't meet Yuuto's eyes, gaze firmly planted on the grimy metal table separating them. Still pouting, that clipped sentence was the closest he'd come to saying sorry.

"Ah, it does. Kind of." Yuuto answered, accepting the unspoken and emotionally stunted apology while scratching his head, "But I've actually slept for the first time in days, so that's definitely a plus."

Nodding, Private Minato remained tight-lipped, biting the inside of his cheek.

"That's right!" Daitan snapped, pointing at Yuuto, "You bunk near the Engine Room."

Yuuto's brows furrowed together as the edge of his mouth curiously raised up, "Yeah, I remember telling you that. Why so excited?"

"No particular reason." She answered far too quickly to be true.

"Right…" Yuuto said, slowly nodding.

Daitan coughed into her elbow, still holding it in front of her face as she asked, "So… you know Maemi?"

Yuuto's face scrunched up, "Uh… no. I thought you knew her?"

Daitan blanked, "Yeah, I mean, uh, I've talked to her, like, a couple times. So…"

"Are you feeling okay?" Yuuto slowly asked, leaning in, "You're acting kind of odd."

"Shut up! You're odd!" Daitan retorted, slamming her hand on the table.

"Agni!" Yuuto cursed, raising his hands in surrender, "Okay, I get it."

"Uh… I know Maemi." Private Minato spoke up, staring at Daitan with a curious expression.

"Oh!" She said, high-pitched and unsteady, "That's, um, cool."

"Yeah, she ran into me in the halls. Dropped all her tools and everything." Private Minato shrugged, "She's a little hectic but nice."

"Yeah." Daitan nodded enthusiastically, "Nice."

"I know you're gonna yell at me again," Yuuto said, raising his hand up, "but are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yes." She shot him a glare.

"Alright." Yuuto said, looking away with his face screwed up in confusion.

"Anyways, I was just wondering." Daitan continued, "You're the one who made a big deal out of it."

" _I'm_ the one who made a big deal out of it?" Yuuto said, indignant.

"Are you really going to argue with me?" Daitan hissed, narrowing her eyes.

Yuuto sputtered, "I don't want to! Why would you think that?!"

"Then sit down and be quiet!" Daitan huffed, looking away.

Lost, Yuuto threw his hands into the air, exasperated. Private Minato cracked a barely noticeable smile, hiding it behind a carefully placed hand. Daitan, who's rushed breathing had slowed down, felt shame creep in on the edge of her thoughts. Refusing to admit that she'd overreacted, Daitan crossed her arms, and didn't look at Yuuto.

"That was fun." Private Minato said, an almost genuine laugh hidden amongst his words as he stood up from the table, "But I'm gonna go to bed."

"Good night." Yuuto wished sulkily.

"See you tomorrow." Daitan added, a light dusting of red on her cheeks.

Shaking his head, Private Minato walked off, wondering how those two called themselves adults. He was pretty sure he was more organized than either of them, _and_ while significantly younger. Not that he'd ever willingly admit it.

"So…" Daitan said, popping her lips, "I'm gonna… go…"

Yuuto, tired and hungrily eyeing the left over dinner by the kitchen window, nodded, "You do that."

Surprised, Daitan blinked, "Oh. Alright then. Bye."

"Bye." Yuuto half-heartedly waved, now ravenously focused on consuming food.

Unsteady, Daitan stood up, examining him, and was still left confused. Getting to her feet, she followed his gaze to the cold dishes he was practically salivating over, and let out a small laugh. Yuuto broke his concentration to give her an odd look, before turning his attention back towards the kitchen.

"Just go ask for some." Daitan sighed, putting her hands on her hips and shifting her weight to one side, "Head Cook Namiyo likes it when people want his food. Some weird ego thing, so he'll definitely give you what's left."

"Excellent." Yuuto grinned, pushing himself up from his position, apparently forgetting he was supposed to be angry at her.

Daitan scoffed, "Okay, have fun, weirdo."

"Yeah, yeah, you too." He replied, not acknowledging the barb tacked on to her sentence.

Snickering, Daitan genuinely waved as he practically sprinted over to the metal opening, even across the room she could hear his desperate pleas. Feeling an almost unfamiliar warmth spread in her chest, such a different feeling than when she thought of Maemi, Daitan had to pause. A colder feeling trickled in, wrapping around her skull and encasing it in a haze that prickled and poked at her conscious thoughts.

The last time she'd felt like that was a day she loathed to remember, despite each and every detail having been permanently etched into her memory. Rough, packed dirt stinging and scratching her bare feet, little rocks digging their way into flesh as Daitan had run around. The sticky festival air laying heavy on her skin, the wind smelling of spice and the burnt powder of fireworks. The sky marked with bright lines of color, amassing a large crowd of awestruck children like her. The hand that had been slipped in hers in the early morning, the one she hadn't let go of since, except for that one moment. That one second she'd seen an explosion so utterly breathtaking and enrapturing that Daitan had brought both her hands to her mouth, forgetting her one objective. The one moment she'd permanently fucked everything up.

Daitan shoved down the memory as fast as she could, desperately refusing to acknowledge even a single moment. She felt something dark slither in her gut, so horrible and guilty that she wanted nothing more than to rip it out and wrench its head off. Shaking, she clenched her fists and stomped the rest of the way to the door. Chanting the Fire Nation anthem in her head, keeping in time with her footfalls. That always worked.

Daitan kept her focus solely on that, along with her movement out of the noisy, reverberating mess hall. Each new sound seemed like another spike in her head, another reason to flinch or jump, something she was so entirely sick of. What was the _point_ of her body doing that? She detested it, hated it, and it never left. Sometimes she didn't know what set it off, only that when it happened, it was so disorienting and… _scary_.

"Soldier!"

The word slammed full force against her skull, sending coherent thoughts toppling over and shaking her heart so hard that it felt it would shatter her rib cage. Her blood, simmering beneath pale skin, raced around her body, carrying a deep unease that permeated every inch of her. Slowly, Daitan turned around, refusing to act weak.

Breathing deeply and steadily under her breath, Daitan let her unfocused and flickering vision sweep the area, catching a blob swathed in deep red and morose gray.

"Yes, sir?" She very carefully enunciated, as her initial panic subsided, giving way to something more reactionary.

"I need you to pick something up from Hawker Isao and drop it off in the Engine Room." Lieutenant Eiko ordered, hurried and breathless.

A flood of red drenched Daitan's vision, and she very nearly bit down on her tongue to keep it from spewing curses at a commanding officer she actually _liked_. Controlling the wave of anger that came after was impossible, despite that, she very carefully nodded an acceptance. 

"Thank you, Seaman Daitan." Lieutenant Eiko bowed, hand in fist.

"No problem, sir." Daitan bowed in response, coarsely whispering.

Having only one second for a quizzical look, Lieutenant Eiko nodded and scampered off down the hall, apparently needing to urgently attend something.

Watching the older woman leave, Daitan doubled over, hands grabbing and digging at her knees. With her chest heaving and her breath caught in her throat, she choked back any strangled sounds that bubbled up. It was dangerous to do this so close to so many people, but it's not like she had time to run off and find an isolated spot. Shuddering, Daitan slowly stood upright, ignoring the murky feeling that had seeped into her body.

With her mind relatively free of shaky fear, Daitan finally had time to process the order she'd been given. A message needed to go to the Engine Room. She could do that. That was fine.

Forcing her way forward, Daitan's shambling steps echoed in the hall, trudging her way towards the Hawker's hideout. By the time she made it, she'd be back to normal. Brash words and all. She had to be.

* * *

The pounding on the door was enough to shatter Isao's tentatively happy atmosphere. The hawks had been quiet, sleeping in their various cages that had been recently decorated with name tags. It was quiet, simple and best of all, he was all alone. Kicking back on his singular chair, Isao had nothing else to do but crack open the scrolls he'd scooped up at mail call. The majority could be saved until later, mostly copies of unreleased scripts that he'd agreed to sort through, but the one he held in his hand was so much more important.

Pulling it open, careful not to rip the cheap parchment, Isao felt lighter than he had in weeks. He'd only read the opening line or so, which went something like ' _To my dearest Isao, who I've missed with the passion of a thousand_ -' before the slamming had started. Dopey smile swept off his face, a scowl quickly stole its spot, as he jumped up from his seat. Growling his way to the door, Isao swore under his breath as he unlocked it, and threw it open.

"WHAT?!" Isao yelled, both his hands pressed on the doorframe.

"Jeez!" Seaman Daitan said, stepping back, "Someone piss in your fire flakes?"

Isao's eye twitched, "No, but you see, I have this headache that comes and goes, and right now, it's _standing in front of me_."

Daitan rolled her eyes, "Real fucking original. I'm supposed to take something to engineering, do you have it?"

Isao blinked, "Right. Helmsman Kosei dropped off a report with me."

"Okay…" Daitan said, bouncing on her heels, "can you grab it or…?"

Isao pushed himself away from the door, "I got it, I got it."

"Thank you, dear!" Daitan called in a high falsetto, leaning into the room.

Pausing to shoot her a venomous glare, Isao went back to rooting around in the basket of scrolls by his table. The hawks, now awoken, squawked indignantly as he made a face at them. Making doubly sure that he didn't pull out one marked by a theatre label, he grabbed the one with a Fire Nation military seal, and popped it into his palm. Jumping up, his feet landed solidly on the floor, and he whipped around to face the impatient intruder.

"Take it." He pushed the scroll into her expectant palm, "Now fuck off."

"Touchy." She muttered, before stopping and looking at him with a raised brow, "Unless you have something you want to get back to?"

Isao's face soured even further than before, "I have never felt more displeasure in someone's company than right now, with you standing in front of me. And that is saying something because I _loathe_ other people."

Daitan paused, taken aback, before smiling widely, "Aww, you know you love me."

Isao stares at her in utter bewilderment, "I'm no longer sure if it's just blustering confidence you possess, or a complete lack of shame and the ability to process it."

Giving him a wink, Daitan chuckled, "Is there any difference?"

Taking a moment to gape at her answer, Isao sucked in a breath, "No… no, I guess not."

"So, you gonna answer me or not?" Daitan asked, tilting her head forward while her hands were planted firmly on her hips, an ever so familiar smug look on her face, "You can tell me, what's got you so worked up?"

Isao glowered, feeling a vein pop up in his forehead, "Get out."

Daitan mock saluted, "Sir, yes, sir." And pulled away from the opening, grinning wildly, she jogged down the hall and out of sight.

"How in the world is she a soldier?" Isao muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Stepping away, Isao grabbed the worn metal handle and swung the door closed. Hearing it clunk into place, he locked it, and backed away. Sighing deeply, Isao trudged over to his poorly made chair, collapsing in it. Running a hand over his face, he stared blankly at the ceiling, contemplating his place in the universe. He groaned and Isao turned over and grabbed his half read letter, feeling the pressure on his temple alleviate. Letting a smile slip back into place, he let out a breath and continued reading.

* * *

"Okay, you can do this. You're really fucking hot, and confident, and have muscles for days." Daitan fervently muttered to herself, pacing in the hallway just outside of the Engine Room.

"Who cares if she's really pretty and nice and funny…" Daitan continued, slowing down as she listed attributes, "and passionate and cool…" She paused, violently shaking her head, "No, you fucking idiot lesbian! Stop it!"

Taking a breath to gather herself, Daitan ran a hand through her hair, brushing over the spikes sticking up near the front, her fingers getting caught in the strands that weaved back into her braid. She brought her other hand to her chest, pressing down onto her heart, feeling each and every erratic thump. Groaning, while simultaneously cursing her emotions, she slumped slightly. Refusing to be defeated, however, she stood up, back rigid and straight.

Pinching the soft flesh of her inner wrist, Daitan tried to keep herself grounded as she stood in front of the door to the Engine Room. Tensing her shoulders and raising her head, she rapped on the metal door, slow and rhythmic. Despite her racing pulse, she forced herself to stay still as footsteps from the other side echoed and came closer to her. Plastering a neutral, unrevealing smile on her face, Daitan felt as if she could face anything that came her way. The handle jiggled, before turning and opening.

Daitan couldn't help her eyes lighting up, "Hey Maemi! What's-"

That wasn't Maemi. She thought very slowly as her eyes traveled downwards to examine the shorter figure. A bandage wrapped around a scowling face, pointedly staring her down. That was _definitely_ not Maemi.

"Oh, uh," Daitan said, hand still raised up in a fist, "hi."

The prince didn't react, content to be glaring at her like a vicious little wolf-bat.

"So…" Daitan trailed off, smiling weakly, "is Maemi there?"

The prince, giving her one last angry look, huffed and turned away, stomping off to go find the engineer. Frozen, Daitan had no choice but to shove every screaming part of her consciousness down and save it for later, when she was alone. There, she could safely shout 'what the fuck' without being smited by an angsty tween. She could feel the muscles holding up her smile begin to ache, and she firmly refused her body's request to drop it.

The prince marched back into view, yanking his head towards the back in a very unmannered way. With no other option, Daitan elected to stay silent as she entered the threshold of the Engine Room. The wall of humid air slammed into her, as uncomfortable and sticky as ever, though certainly not as unnerving as hearing the door slam shut behind her. Swallowing a lump stuck in her throat, Daitan reminded herself that even though the royal family was rumored to be closer to Agni's true children than most, a thirteen-year-old could not truly sense fear.

"She's in the back." The young voice rasped out, much calmer than she'd ever heard.

"Yep. Thanks… sir." Daitan's stunted reply came in tense, low chunks.

She didn't want to turn around to see if he'd acknowledged her words, and hoped to Agni above that he truly wasn't going to. Huh, perhaps she was more on edge that she suspected, swearing to absent and unforgiving deities wasn't an activity she tried to partake in. Daitan took a shaky step forward, ignoring the burning sensation on her back (she really tried not to picture her skin darkening and blistering with each passing second).

The boilers hummed next to her, their figures imposing and tuneless noises eerily in sync. To her, keeping both the coal fueled engines _and_ a possibly combustible heating system in such close proximity was a foolish idea. Of course, Daitan didn't design ships nor did she have a particular desire to do so. Still… she felt like maybe this was something she should comment on at some point.

Daitan had weaved her way through the hissing pipes, taking an ever familiar path to get to the back. The glow of a furnace reflected off rusty and polished metal alike, covering the area in a hazy orange light. The final destination lay before her, in clear view.

Maemi was standing up, her dark tank top stained with grease and flecks of coal, the top part of her engineer's uniform zipped down and tied around her waist, leaving the connected pants baggy and drooping. The bottom of the patch-covered maroon jumpsuit was tucked into thick black boots, the padded soles connecting to the ground with a resounding thud that seemed to echo despite the roaring of the fire. Daitan was entirely mesmerized.

Maemi, only stopping to wipe the sweat from her forehead as she shoveled more coal into the engine, was too preoccupied to note the captivated party that had come to see her. Even _if_ Daitan could've formed coherent sentences at that moment, she wasn't sure if she'd say anything that wasn't totally embarrassing and humiliating. Which is why she was _so_ thankful that the prince, at that moment, decided to alert the engineer to Daitan's presence.

"Second Engineer." The boy bellowed above roaring machines, "There's someone here."

Daitan resisted the urge to tear her hair out and rage at the injured child. Such behavior was generally frowned upon, she reminded her dwindling patience and sanity. Without even the reprieve to throw Prince Zuko a reproachful glare, Daitan had no choice but to hope her 'calm' persona would hold up.

Maemi, who briefly stiffened, quickly dropped her shoulders, and turned her head. Pushing up her thick lensed goggles, it only took a few blinks to realize what she was seeing. She came bounding over, only a few feet away from Daitan, smiling brightly.

"Hey, Daitan! Didn't expect to see you here." Maemi waved, way too bubbly for such a late evening.

Daitan, who's brain had gone into panic mode, nodded, "Yeah, just - uh, Lieutenant Eiko… a report, you know?"

Maemi blinked, "Uh, I didn't quite get that."

Daitan took a deep breath, reminding herself that full sentences were probably a good idea, and fake coughed, "Sorry, something in my throat."

Maemi nodded, looking thoughtful, "Yeah, that sucks, doesn't it?"

Daitan forced a laugh, "Yeah, I know. Anyways, Lieutenant Eiko wanted me to drop off this scroll for you."

She raised her hand that had been stuck at her side, the scroll tightly clutched in her fingers. Desperately hoping she hadn't crushed or crumpled the parchment, she dropped it into Maemi's palm. Bringing it to her chest, the engineer looked surprised.

"Huh, I wonder what kind of report it is." She mumbled, other hand on her chin, before stopping to glance at Daitan, "Are you okay? You look kind of sick."

Daitan sputtered, taking a step back and waving her hands in front of her, "No! I'm okay! Great, really. Just dandy!"

Maemi looked concerned, "Are you sure? I can get some tea if you'd like."

"No, no, I promise I'm fine." Daitan insisted, "I wouldn't want to impose on you and…"

She jerked her head to the adolescent royal that was behind her, the one that was growing impatient with each passing second. Maemi craned her head and her mouth formed an 'oh', as the dots connected. Taking a moment, she clapped her hands together, now smiling.

"I really don't mind, and I'm sure Prince Zuko wouldn't either." Maemi turned to look at him, "Right?"

Said prince was caught off guard by the question, with his one eye widened farther than Daitan had ever seen it. Gathering his thoughts, Zuko stood tall, and set his face into its usual frown. He crossed his arms and looked away, without any of his usual insults and bluster it seemed like something any regular kid would have done. She always forgot that he was so much younger than her.

"What do I care?" Prince Zuko growled, tapping an impatient foot, "It's not my concern."

"Excellent." Maemi replied, turning back to Daitan, "See! It's no problem. Are you sure you don't want a cup of tea before you go?"

The smart thing to do would have been to politely refuse, bid both Maemi and the brat farewell, and leave. Unfortunately, no one had ever accused Daitan of being smart, and that wasn't going to change. Unable to resist Maemi's offer despite the (admittedly small) logical part of her brain insisting otherwise, Daitan nodded excitedly.

"Excellent! Let me go get my set." Maemi said, running off to go dig amongst the things she had scattered about.

Leaving Daitan and Zuko alone, the small cleared space near the engine quickly fell quiet, with the two refusing to look at each other. Which was fine, since she was pretty sure he wouldn't hesitate to incinerate her if she said something wrong. And with her track record, that was almost guaranteed. Still, if Daitan's crossed arms gripped a little tighter than usual, that was no one's business but hers.

With little else left to do, Daitan began examining the Engine Room, which was much larger than she'd initially expected. Most of the area was mashed together pipes - which was most definitely _not_ up to regulation - or the enlarged boilers that were clustered near the door. The back housed the engine, which needed coal to run, so someone was almost constantly having to shovel it in. Open space was few and far between down there, and judging by the thin mattress laid down about fifteen feet away, Maemi took advantage of it. She basically lived in the Engine Room. A bag was laying next to it, with what looked like clothes - among other necessities - spilling out. First Engineer Riku must've had his own spot, Daitan surmised. Without any other engineers, those two were pushed to their limits to keep the _Wani_ running.

Maemi came back into view, carrying a steaming teapot and it's set of cracked cups all on a gray slab. Setting it gently on the floor, the engineer plopped down, crossing her legs. Daitan paused. Usually, crossing one's legs while sitting was a sign of rudeness, which she knew because that had been one of many complaints she'd received in the past. Maemi didn't do things thoughtlessly, which meant it was a purposeful small rebellion. Daitan couldn't help her grin. Patting the spots next to the tray, Maemi looked expectantly at both the Seaman and the prince. Both of whom glanced at each other with uncomfortable surprise, before giving in.

Also crossing her legs while settling next to Maemi, Daitan put her hands behind her spot and leaned back, acting casual. The prince, swallowing hard, sat in the proper manner, kneeling down, he tucked his legs beneath his small frame, his hands resting on his thighs. Humming softly, Maemi placed cups for each of them around their poorly made circle, grabbing the steaming teapot. Weathered, the clay creation was not without its defects, old green paint spotted it, the rest having been scratched off, cracks decorated the lid and sides, enough to make it pitiful looking. Gently, she took it and poured the same amount of tea for each of them, ignoring the prince's eye roll.

Placing the mangled, ugly thing down, Maemi gestured for them to grab their cups with a smile, "I'm afraid I only have ginger tea, I hope that's all right."

"Of course it is." Daitan assured her, nodding exuberantly.

"It's acceptable." Prince Zuko muttered, glaring at the offending drink.

Daitan stifled the urge to shoot the brat a dirty look.

"I'm glad." Maemi smiled, tilting her head.

"So." Daitan coughed into her closed fist, hiding the flush that had arisen, "If you don't mind me asking, what was the report about?"

"Ah." Maemi said, scratching her head and looking pained, "It was something about a coal shortage at the supply station, so our request for more had been denied."

"Really?" Daitan asked, tapping her chin, "The way Jee was yelling at them I thought they would've definitely caved on _that_."

Maemi glanced at her, confused. And judging by the prince's face just barely twitching, she wasn't alone.

"Did… you not get off at port?" Daitan said, eyes widening slightly.

Maemi turned away, looking guilty, "Uh… no. There was too much work to do."

Daitan desperately backtracked, "No, no! That's perfectly understandable, I mean, without you the whole ship would be useless! Your job is so important, and we're all really thankful, you know?" She scratched the back of her neck, glancing off to the side.

Maemi brightened, "Thank you, Daitan. That really does mean a lot."

The prince watched it all with a curious open expression. Without his scowl, he looked… normal.

"Oh, it's no big deal, really." Daitan blushed harder than before, "It's all true."

Maemi laughed, "That's sweet. But why was Lieutenant Jee yelling at port? He's usually so… silent."

Daitan blinked, taking her hand off her head and grabbing her hot tea instead, "Well… apparently he had trouble getting supplies. You know, food, armor, weapons, all that jazz. Something about some guy - Choi, maybe - sending a hawk. Anyways, he ended up having to give them a pretty harsh, and loud, lecture. Agni, I could hear bits of it across the port." Daitan chuckled, shaking her head, "The rest I mostly heard it secondhand, so I'm not sure how accurate it is."

"Really?" Maemi looked stricken, "Still… that doesn't sound good."

Daitan scoffed, "It's not like it did much, we got some bags of rice and other preservatives, but that was pretty much it. No new armor, which sucks since half of us have pieces that don't fit, and no new weapons. I mean, some of the spears are held together with rolls of tape! Tape!"

"Is… that true?" The prince said, staring at Daitan.

She cursed her big mouth, and tried not to look too afraid as she returned his look, "Uh, well, most of it, sir. I meant no insult, I was just blowing off steam."

Maemi smiled, "I think he knew that."

Daitan wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she took a long sip of her tea, feeling heat seep through the crevices dug in the cup, instead. This was fine, she told herself. Nothing weird at all.

"It was just a question." The prince protested, glaring indignantly at the engineer.

"I'm aware, Prince Zuko." She responded (affectionately?).

"Hmph." He crossed his arms, pouting.

Daitan fought a giggle. _This_ was who Yuuto was scared shitless of? Prince Zuko, a raging nightmare no question, but still a kid.

He turned to glare at her, and suddenly, it seemed a lot less terrifying. Despite that eerily familiar gold staring her down, the chill that came with it didn't reach her bones. Still, Daitan kept her face as neutral as possible. Until he huffed and also started drinking his tea, wrinkling his nose.

" _This_ is ginger?" He asked, turning to Maemi.

"That's what Riku said it was." Maemi shrugged, "I had to beg him for the set just now."

Daitan turned to her with a slightly horrified look, "Did… did you take his tea as he was making it?"

Maemi nodded, "Yeah, I told him we had guests, he told me it was my problem, that whole shebang. He still ended up giving it to me."

"You… took tea from an old man." Daitan asked in disbelief, "Deadass?"

"I guess…" Maemi answered, confused, "I was going to make him a pot later as thank you, though."

Daitan laughed, "You're really interesting, you know that?"

Maemi mock bowed, "I'm honored you think that."

Daitan couldn't help the giggles that seemed to bubble out, letting her guard down for a single moment. The prince took the scene in, as awkward and confused as possible, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt it.

"Sorry, sorry," Daitan muttered, waving her hand around, "I don't know what happened there."

"It's fine, I just didn't think it'd be that funny." Maemi answered, smiling.

"It was." Daitan said, beaming.

"Thanks." Maemi nodded, lifting her cup to her lips, sipping it carefully.

"So… if I can ask," Daitan's eyes landed on Zuko, who stiffened in response, "what are you doing here, sir?"

Maemi seemed uncomfortable, and said, "Oh, I'm not sure-"

"I can handle this, Second Engineer." He said, using her full title, turning back to Daitan, he continued, narrowing his eye, "As commander of the ship, I believe it's none of your business."

Daitan nodded, "Yeah, okay, that's fair, sir."

Zuko, satisfied with the answer, went back to his tea. Staying silent, he apparently had no more to contribute.

'Sorry.' Mouthed Maemi, looking ashamed.

Daitan shook her head, refusing to accept the apology. It was her own fault, she reasoned, no one else's.

"So," Maemi began, choosing to move on, "how are you doing, Seaman Daitan?"

"Fine." She answered, uneasy, "I wandered around port for a few hours, talked to some people. You know how it is."

"Did you buy anything?" Maemi asked, slurping from her cup.

Daitan froze, "Uh, yeah, just a few things." She started tapping her cup before a memory struck her, "Like, I - uh, got these little gold-painted knick-knacks, they're horrendous but I love them."

"Ooh! Can I see?" Maemi said, curiously leaning in.

Daitan, smug and preening, dug behind her chest plate, producing a set of moderately sized charms in the shape of closed scrolls, "Look! If you move them like this," she began pushing on one part sticking up that was meant to imitate a paper edge, "they open! So you can put stuff in them."

"Oh… that's nice." Maemi said, a pained smile crossing her face, "How… much did you spend on them?"

Daitan paused, thinking, "I don't know, a few gold pieces, I think?"

Prince Zuko stared, almost entirely enraptured with the way light seemed to dance across the false metallic surface.

"And… you're happy with that?" Maemi questioned, concerned.

Daitan let a childish grin form and giddily said, "I'm gonna turn them into earrings."

Maemi, choosing not to say anything, merely nodded, "That sounds wonderful."

"That's against regulation." Zuko muttered, crossing his arms, "You can't have jewelry on your body when you're on duty."

Daitan blinked, "Uh, yeah, I'm aware of that, sir. I just like to collect them, I really only wear them at bars."

"Bars?" Zuko repeated, looking as close to scandalized as he could get.

"Yeah… bars. Drinking, eating, fighting. All that fun stuff and more." Daitan answered, watching carefully as Maemi hid an amused smile.

"You… you go to them _willingly_?" Zuko asked, leaning in.

"Yeah." Daitan nodded, "Have been since I was, oh, a little older than you."

Zuko looked shell shocked, "But bars are for lowlifes, criminals with no dignity!"

Maemi rolled her eyes, "And who told you that?"

"My tutors!" Zuko said, swiveling his head to look at her, "And - and the dignitaries at the palace!"

"Do you think they're right?" Maemi asked, staring at him knowingly.

Zuko blanked before glaring, "Yes. Why wouldn't they be? Are you insulting them?"

Maemi raised an eyebrow, and instead of hurriedly apologizing, asked, "Am _I_ a lowlife criminal?" She pointed to herself.

Zuko recoiled, "No, of course not!"

"So you see how that contradicts, right?" Maemi said, carefully explaining it.

The prince considered her words with a scowl, before turning away, done with talking, "Shut up."

Maemi turned to Daitan and rolled her eyes, "Anyways, you collect earrings?"

Daitan played along, "Anything, really, as long as it's shiny."

"Huh." Maemi said, taking a long swig of tea, "I didn't peg you for the type."

Daitan shook her head, "I have a weakness for hoarding stuff, I used to steal things all the time when I was younger. Even before I had pierced ears!"

"When did you get them pierced?" Maemi looked at her curiously, "Sorry if that's rude, I just didn't think piercings were common in the colonies."

"Ah, fourteen? Maybe? And it's no big deal, I was going through a bit of a rebellious phase." Daitan replied, scratching her head, "I insisted on doing it myself, and I got this _nasty_ infection the first time around, I was bedridden for days, but after all that, I managed to do a decent job."

"You did it yourself?" Maemi said, shocked, "That seems… dangerous."

"Oh, well, not if you know how to do it properly." Daitan shrugged.

"Did you?" Maemi asked, putting her cup down.

"No, not at the time." Daitan admitted, looking sheepish, "But I learned."

Maemi, wanting to say something but coming up with nothing she could use, didn't comment. Zuko, also looking vaguely sickened and disturbed, sipped at his tea, no longer complaining.

"So…" Maemi began, "how's your friend, the Pikeman?"

Daitan, very purposefully refusing to look at the prince, nodded slowly, "Good, good. He's doing fine."

"That's a relief." Maemi smiled, eyes brightening, "I was worried when I heard someone had gotten hurt."

"Yeah, training accidents, right?" Daitan felt her stomach turn and ignored it, "He just had a minor concussion."

"Thank goodness." Maemi agreed, finishing the last drops out of her cup, "I heard you carried him to the healer yourself. That must've been difficult."

Blanching, Daitan struggled to come up with words, "I-I wouldn't say that, exactly. Um, Hawker Isao helped a bit, with the whole carrying thing."

"Still, to do something like that for someone you barely know. That's very kind." Maemi earnestly said, staring at Daitan.

"Oh, uh… thanks." Daitan accepted with a pounding heart, not having the will to tell the engineer that it was her own fault in the first place, "And it wasn't a big deal, I kinda like the kid."

"Well, you need all the friends you can get." Maemi agreed, pushing her cup towards the tray, "He is pretty young, I've heard."

"Yeah, Yuuto… is pretty unequipped to deal with stress in any form." Daitan awkwardly chuckled, ignoring Zuko's interested look once he'd heard the Pikeman's name, "I just came from the cafeteria, and he looked _so_ shocked when he got a letter, it definitely threw him off his game." She didn't mention the tears.

"Oh, that's right. Mail call was tonight, wasn't it?" Maemi asked, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I didn't see you, though. Did you not come?" Daitan questioned.

"Nah, I know I didn't get anything. We're pretty much hiding out here." Maemi replied, rolling her eyes as Zuko stiffened.

Initially, he'd insisted that the only reason he'd come down was to make sure she 'wasn't screwing up her job like everyone else on this stupid ship', but after she'd mentioned mail call, his reaction was more than enough to go on. Not that Maemi had pressed the issue further, she had common sense after all.

"'We'?" Daitan repeated, quirking up an eyebrow.

"Uh." Maemi sputtered, briefly panic stricken, "Riku. I meant me and Riku. You know, the two of us, the ones who are always down here…"

"Right…" Daitan accepted with a grain of salt, "Um, do you wanna hear about a weird coincidence?"

"Yes!" Maemi agreed, too enthusiastically.

Daitan, taken aback, hesitantly continued, "U-Uh, well, as it turns out, my cousin and Yuuto's sister are assigned to the same division."

"Oh? That _is_ a weird coincidence." Maemi nodded, her hair bouncing with her head.

"Yeah, he wanted to write a letter to figure out if they knew each other." Daitan rolled her eyes, "Like there aren't thousands of people in a division, the possibility is next to nothing."

"Ah, but it's not zero, is it?" Maemi countered, pointing at Daitan, "And it wouldn't hurt. Which division is it anyways?"

"Hmm, gimme a second, it always takes a bit to remember." Daitan said, thinking hard as her eyebrows furrowed.

"Take all the time you need. I'm not in a rush." Maemi encouraged, ignoring Zuko's glare.

"The 41st!" Daitan shouted, snapping her fingers, "I got it!"

"Oh, that's nice." Maemi smiled, startled by Daitan's energy.

If Daitan hadn't been so caught up in the way Maemi's grin seemed to effortlessly curve around her face, lighting up her ebony eyes with life and laughter, like earth-shattering explosions all contained within small little jewels, compressed and melded together perfectly, she might have noticed the way Zuko's face fell, devastated and scared, so very scared. Maemi, distracted by a new companion, her tireless energy and constant interest something new and captivating to a more logical mind, didn't see Zuko's already concerning complexion grow paler, his face a light green despite the growing heat of the furnace. The fire within it seemed to be hungrier and higher as the prince's breath came out heaving and choking, ready to consume and take, to raze and rage in accordance with its will.

"Have to go." Zuko spit out, scrambling to stand up, shaking wildly.

"Sir-" Maemi started, raising her hands in surprise.

Not listening, Zuko stumbled away, knocking over his unfinished tea. Uncle would be so disappointed. The thought popped up so quickly among the rest that it shook him to his core, among all his illogical issues, that one seemed to be the most unnerving. He couldn't even muster the energy to shove it away, and pretend it didn't matter. It took all he had to keep upright as the Engine Room seemed to spin and upheave itself without his approval, which was stupid because Zuko was in charge. He was in charge… wasn't he?

He heard the panicked calls coming from behind him, tinny and bouncing from every metal surface, trying to dig their way into his skull. All it did was serve as more motivation to get away as he shambled past pipes and urgently searched for the exit, ignoring the scalding metal that brushed against his skin. The world swam and tilted as his depth perception became more and more of a problem, bumping against various objects on his hurried path to the hallway. Until, finally, the end was in sight.

He collided with the door, fumbling with the lock until it finally clicked open, leaping through and slamming it behind him, cutting off the called out protests of the engineer. Zuko had no time to rest, a burning dread had found itself in his veins, and it refused to stop moving. Forcing himself down the hall, a sinking feeling told him that there was something he had to ask his uncle.

* * *

Iroh hadn't quite grown accustomed to his nephew's antics, it had only been two weeks into their voyage, but it seemed like there would be time to eventually figure it out. He frowned, briefly pausing his tea making process. There was only time because his foolish and horrid brother had decided to _maim_ his own child, a thought that made Iroh's very being burn with seething hatred. To do something so unthinkable to a person you were supposed to protect and treasure was sickening. And the fact that the young boy thought he _deserved_ it was revolting, Ozai truly was a man with no qualms about doing something that would benefit himself, even at the expense of his family.

Shaking his head, Iroh was resolute in his decision to try and help his nephew. Even if it meant leaving his niece behind. For that, he could never be sorry enough. Azula was a perplexing and concerning child, Ozai's poison had already dug deep in her. Still, she was young and impressionable and Iroh had left her alone with the man who would not hesitate to destroy anything in his way. But as angry and vile as she could be, she was still smart and careful where her brother was not. If Iroh had stayed, he didn't know if he'd even be able to help her, but he could've _tried_. But that would have meant leaving Zuko alone to face his banishment, and if he did that, the boy would almost certainly perish. Azula's talent would buy her time. It had been a difficult choice, something that tore at Iroh's soul, but at the very least, they both would live. One day, perhaps he could properly apologize to her, if she would hear him out.

The door was thrown open and Iroh's steadied nerves, hardened by ages of battle and political dissent, barely jumped, the energy instead directed into figuring out what had caused it. With a careful turn of his head, it was no longer a mystery when he saw his nephew standing there, breathing heavily and erratically.

"Prince Zuko," He started, hurriedly standing up, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine, uncle." He muttered, tired and quiet.

Iroh paused. Something was very wrong.

"Come on, sit down." Iroh ushered him to the other side of the low set table, a pillow set down on either side.

Zuko pushed him away, stumbling over to the spot and falling onto his knees. Silent, he seemed to be waiting for Iroh to do the same. Wary, Iroh followed suit, kneeling across from Zuko. His tea, now ready and boiling, beckoned him to pour a cup or two, and he obliged.

"What is on your mind, Prince Zuko?" Iroh asked, putting the teapot down.

"Is this Jasmine?" He croaked, ignoring the question.

"Yes, it is." Iroh answered, looking at him oddly, "I find it to be a most relaxing drink."

Zuko was silent, staring at the cup, "Uncle… I have to ask something."

Iroh, surprised that he wasn't outright demanding answers to whatever query he had, nodded, "Of course, Prince Zuko."

"How… old were the letters at mail call?" Zuko said, his hand absentmindedly picking at the surface of the table.

Iroh stiffened. Was he wondering about the lack of news from his sister or father? "I do not know for sure, but by my estimate, a few weeks perhaps."

"And…" Zuko shuddered, staring blankly at his tea, "And when did the 41st get sent out, for their… mission?"

"Prince Zuko…" Iroh muttered, hesitating.

"Uncle, I… I have to know." Zuko finally looked up, almost pleading, "It's my fault they're out there."

Iroh sighed. Not knowing would hurt him more in the long run. "Very well. If you're sure. The last I had heard about the matter was that the 41st Division was to be sent out a few days after our departure. By now they've already… completed their mission."

Zuko stiffened, swallowing, "They're already gone."

Iroh closed his eyes and solemnly nodded, "Yes, Prince Zuko."

"It'll take another few weeks before the death notices are delivered." Zuko said softly, "They won't know."

"Who won't know?" Iroh asked, putting down his tea, a spike of concern in his voice.

"The… the crew, Uncle." Zuko looked away, "Some of them have," he winced, " _had_ relatives in the 41st."

"Oh, my dear boy." Iroh's face grew pallid, "It is not your fault, these are the demands of war." An unjust, selfish war, though Iroh left that part off.

"If I'd just been smarter, Uncle," Zuko gritted his teeth, his fists grabbing tightly at the loose fabric of his trousers, "I could've stopped that plan. If I had _waited_ -"

"Then another division would've replaced them." Iroh finished, sighing, "Those generals are stubborn and old, I doubt even the Firelord himself could easily convince them to change. You are not at fault for their cruelty."

Zuko remained silent, staring at the table. It was obvious he didn't believe it, he truly wanted to shoulder the blame for thousands of deaths. He was too kind for what his father and his nation had done, what they continued to do.

"Would you like to stay for a while, nephew?" Iroh dropped the title, his voice much quieter.

Zuko froze and considered the offer, he looked so lost and alone, though he did not need to be, before shaking his head, "No. I'm... going to bed."

Pushing up off the floor before he could change his mind, Zuko brushed off his armor, pointedly looking away from his uncle. The boy paused, staying silent and still for a few seconds, before turning to Iroh. Fist against flat palm, he gave the quickest and most polite bow he could muster, before starting off towards the door. Iroh was left in shock, blinking for what felt like minutes as he heard his nephew exit and slam the door.

Shaking it off, Iroh was alone with two cups of tea, refusing to let such a good brew go to waste, he slid his nephew's cup over to himself. As nice as it had been to see a glimpse of the child Zuko had been, it had come at the cost of immense grief, with guilt and fear following close behind. Iroh couldn't wish that on anyone, not after the failed siege of Ba Sing Se. Lifting up a cup and swallowing a mouthful of the supposed 'calming tea', Iroh's thoughts still raced, showing no sign of slowing. There was too much to consider and not enough time to do so properly, and Iroh, with a heavy heart, refused to let down another young member of his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... time for internalized guilt! Yay for Zuko and his trauma. Also there was more Maemi so I hope everyone's happy with that, I love her quite a bit. So...
> 
> Sorry if this is short I'm just really tired today. Um, hope you all enjoyed! Bye!


	6. Fiery Core

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Chapter 6! Probably the most confusing, theme wise, but I liked writing it! My Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks so feel free to pop on over.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: There's racism dealing with mixed kids, both internalized and coming from other people, and also mentions of rape, just a notice!

A fireball whizzed past Daitan's head, close enough that baby hairs were in danger of being singed and the air itself stung open flesh. Without a second thought, she'd thrust her fist towards her opponent, her own chi and breath mingling and merging to extend past her body, decorated with intense orange flames and slamming itself against its target. Putting weight on her back foot, she swung her other leg around in a practiced motion that produced the same fiery result. Letting her leg continue its trajectory, she slammed it on solid ground and kicked the other up for a roundhouse that was sure to give her an edge. It was only when she heard the telltale crunch of armor slamming against metal, that she stood upright, victorious again.

The sun beat down on the deck, she could feel the warmth and light curl around her body, it's power running through her veins, invigorating her with pure energy. Her inner flame was strong and begging for more, it wanted to consume all it could, to keep savoring and salivating at each win, and she was happy to oblige it. Fire was chaos and destruction and anger, things Daitan knew and reveled in, she did not attempt to smother or control it, merely… guide it, work with it. Fire was a useful tool if one had the will to stand toe to toe with it.

It was morning, and despite Daitan's usual luck, she was not on duty that day. So she wasn't forced to wear a stuffy suit of armor, trying to jump and fight in it took so long to get used to, and even then it was still difficult. Daitan was most happy in her grey trousers and casual tunic, the sleeves ripped off and the remaining fabric shoddily sewn to make the top look somewhat decent. It had been one of the few things she'd brought with her from her home, and though it was apparently in 'poor taste' to wear it around the ship, Daitan couldn't make herself give a shit. It was green, so perhaps that was where people had found the problem. Wearing enemy colors wasn't exactly encouraged.

To combat that, Daitan had carefully replaced the collar with an orange substitute, changing the hem and the fabric lining the armholes to match. She'd had to pay a seamstress to put decals of the Fire Nation emblem on the back, but the overall result had been a satisfactory and slightly ugly blend of colors. Daitan had loved it, but it served as a physical representation of her heritage to others, which was a different can of worms.

Daitan had been lucky her eyes didn't end up entirely green, there was just enough brown to not look like she was entirely from the Earth Kingdom. It was still enough that any mainland soldier tended to do a double take and ask about her family. Her mother was Fire Nation, and that was all she said. They'd assume the worst and everyone could move on, even if they still distanced themselves afterwards. Still wasn't fun.

But fuck them, right? Daitan was a truer Fire Nation citizen than any of those shitheads, and she'd prove it by defeating every single enemy put in front of her. Her superiors had a problem with that. Apparently her desire and drive for fighting made her 'insubordinate' and 'difficult', so when she'd yelled at those pompous asshats who were sullying the good name of the Fire Nation, she hadn't felt one twinge of regret. They attributed it to Earth Kingdom savagery, telling it as such to her face, and _that_ had been the last straw. Savagery? They hadn't truly known the meaning of the word until after she was done with them. Which resulted in her immediate transfer to the _Wani_.

At least here she hadn't been eyed like she'd turn any minute, people didn't hide their loose belongings when they caught sight of her, and they didn't spit out stupid, _stupid_ names under their breath. The names were actually something she almost missed, most of the time they were utterly ridiculous and juvenile sounding, and so she'd laugh it off, enjoying how angered the offending party had gotten. Was she _not_ supposed to guffaw at 'clayhead'? ("It's a mix of fire and earth!" The soldier who came up with had protested as she ripped him a new one) Or 'dirtblood'? (Mudblood sounded better had been her criticism). They wanted to hurt her, and she'd directed it back at them.

Still, she thought as she wiped sweat off her brow, it was better, ultimately. An image of a dark-haired woman with goggles flashed through her mind as her stance faltered, the flames sputtering just off to the left. Besides Maemi, she considered as her face warmed, there were the others.

Yuuto, although obviously curious about her features, knew it wasn't any of his business, and had kept his mouth shut. Daitan liked that. He was a nice, slightly naive kid who seemed to genuinely like her. He also had a knack for stumbling into horrible situations, something that could easily be used for entertainment. Though a twinge of guilt flared in her gut as she remembered his crumpled form on the deck.

But Private Minato was warming up to her, despite his sour introduction, the kid wanted to seem mature and independent, he liked being around others. And Lieutenant Eiko actually treated her with respect, she treated everything like that. It was weird, but a good kind of weird. Despite everyone being kind of odd, or a pain in the ass, there was too much going on for anyone to be concerned with her heritage. Her behavior was another matter.

Releasing a sweeping arc of flames from her hand, Daitan easily countered her opponents blows, absorbing their fire into hers. Above all else, she relished how fighting made her feel. The mere fact that her will could overcome her opponents was a power rush she was desperate to have. She loved bending, loved training to hone it, even as her body grew weary and broken. She liked that it confirmed she was truly a part of something, that she could be nothing less than loyal to Agni's chosen. No true Firebender would betray the Dragon Throne, and Daitan was nothing if not a true citizen.

"I'm done." A wheezing statement came from her sparring partner, who had collapsed to her knees, gulping in air.

"Aww, so soon?" She teased, dropping her fists to her side, swaying slightly.

Her partner looked up at Daitan before sprawling across the deck, sighing heavily.

"Alright, Petty Officer Ruri." Daitan sighed, lazily bowing.

"Thanks, kid." She mumbled, closing her eyes, exhaling.

Rolling her eyes, Daitan scoped the area to find a new partner. Inhaling, the taste of a salty sea breeze was familiar on her tongue, the rotting smell of seaweed and fish followed after. It was a bright morning, the sky a brilliant and saturated blue, and the sun, despite the day being early, was intense. The deck of the _Wani_ was full of sparring benders, jumping and dodging and fighting one another, only about twelve or so in total. Those were all the ones who weren't needed to command the ship. It was a lighter crew than Daitan had ever seen or been on, but at least she had options.

Everyone else was practicing decently, all wearing various states of the uniform. Some were in the grey clothes beneath the plates and helmet, others wore pieces of the shoulder pads, or the shinguards, one wore the entire uniform, helmet and all. That was a weirdo she didn't want to fight. Which was saying a lot.

Almost everyone else was in the midst of their own intense battle, some fighting in teams, except for a singular straggler near the stern of the ship. A shorter soldier stumbling through mid-level katas, their stance was off, their weight misplaced, and their movements were nowhere near refined enough. Enraptured, she watched as they attempted a twisted kick a few feet off the ground, it was meant to be done in midair, and faltered. Unbalanced as they landed on their right foot, it wasn't unexpected when they fell over, hitting the deck with their full body. Daitan could hear muttered curses as they wrenched off their helmet and chucked it petulantly. With blinking eyes, she realized the face was familiar. Smiling wildly, she began to strut over, rushing past flames and stray punches.

The kid was still pouting, having drawn his knees in close, his cheek (it still had _baby fat_ for Agni's sake) was nestled on top of his crossed arms. Daitan slowed her pace until she was stopped behind him, fists on her hips, she raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't get enough momentum to fully turn, that's why you landed wrong." She spoke up, watching with glee as he whipped around to face her, "Still, it was a pretty decent attempt, Private Minato."

The Private's eyes widened, only for a second before he scoffed, "I don't need your pity."

"Kid." Daitan said, squatting and hiding a laugh, "I meant it. Do I really seem like the type to feel _sorry_ about failure?"

Minato considered her words, "No…"

She clasped his shoulder, "Exactly. Now, I need you tell me something, and you have to answer truthfully." Daitan stared him down, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Bullshit. Try again."

Minato huffed, "Fine. I'm fifteen."

Daitan raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Minato bristled, "It's true. My birthday was three weeks ago."

"Belated wishes." Daitan said, sighing, "So, you're in the military illegally. Can I ask what's the deal with that?"

Minato glowered, looking off, "It's a long story. But… my family's honor is at stake."

Daitan considered that, "Alright. That makes sense. What level is your training at?"

Minato shrugged, a tad nervous, but still talkative, "I went to a Fire Academy for a few years, and I mastered the basic katas, but the mid-level ones are tricky."

Daitan nodded, "If I remember right, most people master their forms by twenty-five. There are… exceptions, but you seem to be excelling for your age."

Minato glared at her, "I don't want to hear this from some fighting genius."

Daitan stared and broke out into laughter, "A-A _genius_?! I'm, I'm honored, truly. Oh, Agni-"

Minato looked on in mild horror, "What's so funny?"

She wiped a tear from her eye, "I am many things, talented isn't one of them."

"But… you defeated Petty Officer Ruri." Minato insisted, taking his hands off his bent knees, "And she's, like, thirty."

"She's also lazy." Daitan explained, looking at him, "Petty Officer Ruri mastered her forms once, then never again, you can tell. Practice is important, it's important to keep it up."

"Okay, but still." Minato said, unsure.

"My inherent bending is average, but that's not the only factor. Is it?" Daitan asked, eyes alight with mischief.

"No… our bending also comes from our determination and will, which is what sets the Fire Nation above the rest." Minato slowly said, repeating what he'd learned at the Fire Academy, "You aren't just born talented, you need to have the will to match in order to truly be a master."

"Good, that's exactly right." Daitan nodded, smiling, "The difference between me and Petty Officer Ruri, isn't only her training habits, but our wills. I grew up where village kids made a sport out of hurting you. You either learn quick to beat them or never go out of your house again. The last choice is toughing it out, but that's considered stupid."

Minato took a closer look at her. At first, she seemed untouched, uninjured by the war, a rarity. But along her muscular arms, were thin scars, twisting around flesh, some edges jagged where others were smooth. A good amount were puckered bright pink, younger than the ones that seemed to blend and shape into skin. He'd seen the scars people would give themselves, and the way Daitan's crossed in different spots, no order amongst the randomized slices, told him that they were from someone else.

She tracked his eyes, and smiled very carefully with too many teeth, "There was this game some of the Earth Villages nearby would play, called Fire Spotting. Red doesn't blend, you see. And Earthbenders launch some _very_ sharp rocks."

"How… how long?" Minato quietly asked, his bitterness having been subdued.

"A few years. I was the third option, you see I never got the hang of blocking them until I was your age, I was much too bratty to avoid them. A truly talented bender would've stopped them within months, but there's almost no one like that in the colonies." Daitan explained, her tone too casual to be true, "You know what they say, muddied fires don't burn very bright."

Minato gulped as she stared him down, "And… is that… true?"

Daitan grinned, all steel and quiet rage, "What do you think?"

Minato, looking sufficiently terrified, answered, "It's… probably not."

"Good boy." Daitan said, patting the top of his head.

"So you're just… really determined?" Minato repeated, still in disbelief.

"Well, that helps to direct the flames, to get them to work with you. To _power_ them you need anger, rage, something that cuts so deep you want nothing more than to sear it out." Daitan leaned in, letting her voice grow soft, "When you strike, you strike to hurt, even if you're just sparring. When you're truly in battle? You _kill_. Got it?"

Minato paled, ever so slightly, before a stern gleam showed in his eye, "I can do that."

"Good, now about those forms." Daitan said, eager to move on despite the whiplash the Private was getting, "Running them through dry is a good idea, and you shouldn't use flames until you have the movements down. But in an actual fight? Stick to basics unless you're sure you've absolutely mastered something, unless it's a do or die situation of course."

Minato, who'd finally felt something akin to genuine terror encapsulating him, could do nothing but swallow and nod along, "Alright. That's doable."

"Excellent." Daitan said, completely sure and unbreakable, "Now, let's practice. You have some improvements to make."

Minato wanted to decline, but… he really did need practice, "Alright, but don't get so… excited."

Standing up, she was brimming with uncontrollable energy, "Whatever do you mean?"

Minato, thinking through his life choices, almost felt an immediate pang of regret. But this was fine, he told himself. She'd go easy on him, after all, he was so much younger. Dusting his hands off, he pushed off the ground to stand up. Everything would be alright, it had to be.

* * *

"Any headaches or blurred vision?" Asa yawned, checking his makeshift chart.

Yuuto, bored and used to the routine, sighed, "No. And no. It's been four days already, I'm _fine_."

Asa paused and turned his head, squinting his eyes in the slightest of glares, "Do you want me to do my job or not?"

The Pikeman glumly nodded, "Sorry, I'm just getting restless."

"Which is fine and all, but you're not going back to work without my approval." Asa sharply replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, "So be patient."

"He's right." Lieutenant Eiko interjected from her spot leaning back against the counter, "We can't put you back on duty without written reports from both me and Physician Asa. Head injuries are especially concerning."

"Yes, sir." Pikeman Yuuto answered, distantly.

"Alright." Asa said, jotting one more thing down, "We're done for today. Would you all care for some tea?" 

"Sure." Pikeman Yuuto agreed, sitting on the cot.

It was a habit Asa had gotten into with each of his patients, and for some reason he was annoyed when someone mentioned the offer sounded like something General Iroh would say.

"I wouldn't mind a cup." Lieutenant Eiko said, uncrossing her arms.

"Great." Asa nodded, less tense, "You can help, Lieutenant." 

Mild surprise graced her features, "I… don't know how to make tea."

"Of course," Asa said, brushing away her words and grabbing a small bundle he'd hidden in a drawer to drop into her expectantly cupped hands, "but I just need a bit of assistance."

Carefully unwrapping the crinkly dried paper and saw bits of dried leaves, mostly intact.

"What… am I supposed to do with this?" Lieutenant Eiko asked, looking up.

"Oh, I learned to make tea from my grandmother, and she always used to singe the leaves. But since I can't bend…" Asa trailed off and gestured to Eiko.

"That cannot taste good." She noted, raising an eyebrow.

"I grew up with it." Asa defended, looking almost affronted.

"General Iroh would cry." Lieutenant Eiko chuckled as heat began rising from her palm, small flames licking the crumpled plants.

Asa rolled his eyes, "I'm aware, people have told me."

"I think it's good." Yuuto piped up, smiling.

"Thank you." Asa genuinely said, "She was from around Chisai Island, so that must be why."

Yuuto looked startled, "Oh, well, it does taste like something my aunt always made."

"What's it supposed to be anyways?" Lieutenant Eiko asked, studying the leaves as they slowly browned.

"Hmm, some sort of Ginseng blend I think?" Asa answered, thinking back on the conversation he'd had with the merchant who'd sold it.

Lieutenant Eiko grimaced, "I wouldn't let the princes know that."

"Yes, because the sanctity of tea must be protected." Asa sardonically replied.

"According to the general, yes." Eiko grimly confirmed, the fire vanishing from her fingers, "I believe this should suffice."

Grabbing the crispy remains, Asa nodded gently, "It does. You have my gratitude, Lieutenant."

"Glad to help." She honestly responded, a reserved grin in place.

Yuuto felt the overwhelming urge to look away and mime like he was going to vomit. He just didn't have anybody to do it to.

Asa let the crunchy bits flutter into the pot, pouring in water swiftly afterwards. He closed the lid, and brought it to the table where he had a safe set up. Briefly, he picked up spark rocks, before glancing at Lieutenant Eiko. Who, with the nicest rolled eyes Yuuto had ever seen, jutted two fingers forward and lit the kindling ablaze. Appreciative, Asa nodded his thanks.

"That's incredible precision, Lieutenant." Asa noted, curiously glancing at her, "You must work hard."

"Perhaps." She vaguely replied. "Or is it simply time doing its job, having finally solidified my motions as skillful and true, for what else is it going to do with me as my master?"

"Ah, that sounds familiar." Asa said, thinking, "A poet or philosopher perhaps?"

Lieutenant Eiko's face shattered in quiet surprise, "Close, a playwright. She wrote the original copy of 'Life in Cracked Clay'."

Yuuto had little else to do but stare at the wall. Philosophers, poets and playwrights? He'd barely heard of such things, much less gotten his hands on any of their work. Yuuto was lucky he could read most common script, and he couldn't do much beyond basic arithmetic. It wasn't like anyone on his island could afford the high prices at the academies, they were a small fishing community after all.

"The original copy?" Asa startled, "The one by a _banned_ author?"

Eiko leaned in with humor playing on her features, "Is there any other way to read? Besides, it was an interesting endeavor, to interview people about their lives in the colonies and make wonderful tales from their modest stories."

"I suppose, though I can't speak to how truthful they ended up being. I've heard she twists facts to her satisfaction." Asa mused, considering it, "But I don't know of many other works by Ai. That was her pen name, right?"

"It was. And there's only a few others, not well known or distributed widely, but if you look hard enough you can find them." Eiko said, her shoulders relaxing slightly, "But her work is nothing if not a passionate letter about humanity."

"Really?" Asa remarked, smiling slightly, "I always thought that they were about choices, about how instead of good being inherent, it is decided."

"But would those choices even be made if not for the free will gifted to us as humans?" She countered, a flicker of interest being sparked.

"I think that's up for debate. Ai hasn't released a statement on how she wanted her work to be interpreted, and now that she hadn't been heard from in years…" Asa trailed off, shrugging.

"Would it really be smart to do that when her work is deemed 'dangerous' and 'disloyal'?" Eiko asked, glancing up, "She's lucky no one's turned her in for a reward."

"That's true, unfortunately." Asa sighed, watching morosely as steam began rising from his tea station, flattening and hiding in the air, "But those are the dangers of being an artist."

"What'd she do?" Yuuto interrupted, uneasy as the conversation flowed.

They were talking about a labeled traitor as if she hadn't done something to insult and betray the Firelord. What kind of people were in charge of him?

"Ah. Well, if I remember correctly…" Asa trailed off, tapping his chin, "She released a controversial script about the Air Nation, though, not so much a script as a rough outline. Apparently Ai managed to find letters from that time, and wanted to showcase a supposed epic romance."

Yuuto's face soured, "But why? We defeated them ages ago. And a romance play about our dishonorable enemies seems… tacky."

"You shouldn't forget the enemies you kill." Eiko shrugged, her eyes narrowing despite the awkward shifting of skin that made her scar more noticeable, "You move on and become concerned with other things, but you don't forget. Not ever. It doesn't hurt to recall that they lived as people, felt and loved and lost as we had."

Yuuto swallowed, "But… they weren't really able to be human. They… they forced mothers to give children up and no one grew up with parents or clans, their people suffered, and we defeated the armies holding them back. Only they didn't realize they were saved."

Asa shrugged, "There's a lot of conflicting viewpoints when it comes to the Air Nation. Some say that they were pacifists, others say that they were an uncaring and selfish people. But we can't go up and ask them ourselves, can we? The closest thing we have are historians, and the military reports of our conquests."

Yuuto's stomach twisted a bit, "Yeah… the conquest. I remember hearing it was impressive because their bending armies numbered in the thousands. They suffocated people in open air, exploded chests, sent invisible razors down on unsuspecting soldiers. And the only people who lived in the temples were benders… they cast off those who didn't have the curse of wind."

Asa considered it, "That _is_ what the history books said. And I'd imagine skilled masters would have no technical problem executing the possibilities you've suggested."

Yuuto exuberantly agreed, "Right. It was a hard, but necessary battle. Because they were gearing up for a massive attack, one that would've decimated our coast."

"Really?" Eiko said, the lilt in her tone showing confusion, "I hadn't heard that one."

Yuuto looked away, "My mom went to the mainland a couple years ago and bought a few textbooks. That's what they said."

"Huh." Eiko remarked, leaning against the countertop, "I wonder if they found out the Air Nation was planning something, in letters or such."

"Well, if they're teaching it…" Asa shrugged, "it has to have something backing it up."

"I suppose." Eiko begrudgingly agreed, "Anyways, after Ai released that news, it was considered dissent, and a warrant for her arrest was released. Which was a tragedy, she really is a lovely author."

"I'm not sure how well the play would've done, most people aren't particularly interested in defeated cultures." Asa added on, the whistling of his teapot punctuating his sentences, "Even with all her talents."

Even so, I doubt I would have been able to see it." Eiko shrugged her armored shoulders, "It's not as if we get shore leave that often."

"I don't know." Asa contested, "Lieutenant Jee seems like he'd allow it."

"But he doesn't make the final decision." Yuuto said, shyly refuting.

"Well… that does pose a different problem." Asa sighed, "Prince Zuko has yet to understand the necessity of positive morale."

"Or he doesn't care." Yuuto offered, slumping down.

"He's still young, I doubt he actually wants to torture us." Eiko said.

"He's the next Firelord, I don't think it really matters." Yuuto protested, "Even if he's young, he's still… scary."

Asa shook his head, "A thirteen-year-old prince is still a thirteen-year-old. It's not my place to talk about his injuries, physical or mental, but believe me when I say he wouldn't seek to harm any of us."

"That's not true." Eiko chided, a playful smile waiting patiently on her lips, "Our eardrums are certainly going to retain permanent damage."

Yuuto sputtered, "How can you joke about something like that? Prince Zuko is royalty, he's to be feared!"

Asa eyed him curiously, "You certainly have a… not quite healthy apprehension of royalty."

Yuuto swallowed, looking away, "It's just… one of my ancestors... disrespected Firelord Sozin. He did not live long after."

Eiko's face was grim, "Past wrongs have already been righted if no further punishment by Firelord Sozin occurred. The prince would bear no ill will towards you now because of it."

Yuuto's laugh came out mangled, "No, I know that much. But I certainly follow in great-grandfather's footsteps, even by accident."

"If you slighted the prince and he did nothing to correct it..." Asa trailed off, sighing, "then you're alright, Pikeman."

Yuuto violently protested, "You can't promise that."

"No…" Asa glanced at the boiling tea, his face only slightly twitching, "I suppose I can't. But in my honest opinion as someone who's seen and dealt with awful, cruel commanders? Prince Zuko doesn't seem to be like them."

Yuuto frowned, "I… I just don't know if I can believe you."

"That's alright, Yuuto." The physician slowly softened, "I trust you can figure it out on your own time."

That had been the first time Asa had referred to him by name alone. Yuuto didn't meet his eyes. There would be kindness in them, a small, stunted version of it that was all the doctor could offer, and even then it'd be too much. He wanted to cling to the possibility of someone truly believing in him, but that was a dream of a child, whose hopes had been snuffed out and swept away long ago.

"Right." Yuuto exhaled, the word was shaky and unsure, yet the most he could respond with.

"Oh, Asa, I think your tea is ready." Eiko interrupted, pointing to the angrily whistling pot with concern.

The man jumped slightly, whipping around to grab cups and hurriedly put them down, "Ah! I can't believe I almost forgot about it."

Eiko, scoffing in good humor, turned to Yuuto, "Is it actually any good?"

Asa paused to shoot her an undiscernible glare.

Yuuto laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "It's… an acquired taste."

"Which is code for 'it tastes like garbage'." She said, tilting her head to the side.

"You know, you don't have to drink any." Asa said, narrowing his eyes, "If you're really so opposed to it."

"I didn't say I wasn't going to have any." She countered, raising a finger, "I just want to know what I'm getting into."

"Good." Asa nodded, terse, "Now take your cup."

He shoved the steaming drink into her unsuspecting hands, and watched with satisfaction as she seemed to quiet down for a minute or two. Asa deftly grabbed the next cup and handed it to Yuuto, who accepted it with a neutral nod. Eiko raised the tea to her mouth and took a careful sip.

"Oh, Spirits! This is-" She spit it out, coughing and hacking, "Ugh!"

Yuuto shrugged, taking an exaggerated swig, "Tastes good to me."

She levelled a very calm, refined glare at him, "You're very testy and unpleasant."

"Yes, sir." He agreed, swinging his legs back and forth.

"I have no idea what you mean." Asa added, holding his own drink and sipping at it, "He's delightful."

Eiko shook her head, "You're an odd bunch."

"We're drinking burned leaf water, I think that tells you a lot." Yuuto said, leaning back.

"You know, as long as you admit it…" Eiko trailed off, taking another taste of her tea and wrinkling her nose, "I don't know how you can get used to this."

"It's a perfectly fine beverage." Asa said, his words getting snippy and short, "I'm sorry you can't appreciate it, Lieutenant."

"Yes, it's truly a tragedy." Eiko replied, giving no hint of sarcasm.

Barely attempting to hide an eye roll, Asa continued, "Are you planning on attending the crew meeting today?"

"Of course, I'm an officer after all." Eiko said, putting down her cup, "Are you?"

"Yes, I know I've been slacking since they don't specify I have to attend every day, but it's probably a good idea." Asa shrugged, "It wouldn't hurt."

"Well, if you're hoping for excitement, you'd be wrong." Eiko said, "It's usually Lieutenant Jee talking about schedules or our lack of supplies, sometimes people will bring up someone who violated the rules and needs to be punished."

"Ahh, but don't snitches get stitches? That is the saying, after all. I'm surprised they let people get away with that." Asa said, glancing up.

"It's not as if they can do anything about it without Lieutenant Jee finding out." Eiko shook her head, "Unless they'd want to challenge someone to an Agni Kai."

"Right." Asa rolled his eyes, "An Agni Kai. Like anything like that would happen here."

"I think you underestimate the pride and egos of some of our soldiers." Eiko chuckled, "If they felt sufficiently offended…"

"Like we'd have the resources to deal with the losers afterwards, one major burn in the crew is bad enough." Asa grumbled, throwing back the last dregs of his subpar drink.

"A burn?" Yuuto said, looking curiously at Asa, before the dots connected, "Oh… right."

Asa, realizing what he'd just said, ran a hand over his face and winced.

"Forget it, kid. I shouldn't have said anything."

Yuuto scowled, displeasure rippling across his body, heavily sinking down into his being. He didn't like being excluded.

"Fine." Yuuto sighed, finishing the last bit of his drink, "We're done here, right?"

Asa blinked, taken aback, "I… suppose we are. It's for the best, the meeting is going to start soon."

"Great." Yuuto pushed himself off the cot, "I'll meet you there."

"Right." Asa nodded, "Of course."

Yuuto walked across the room, his steps heavier and louder than usual. Not quite stomping but certainly something close. A prickling sensation buzzed at the back of his head, setting him on the edge, ready to flare up at any moment. Grasping the handle, he turned it harshly and pushed out. The door gave way and he marched out, giving a final, cursory bow to Lieutenant Eiko before wrenching closed. He pointedly ignored the look of mild shock on their faces, their eyes tilted up in the barest sprinklings of concern.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to walk away. On some level, Yuuto knew it was childish to act so petulant and difficult, a facet he hadn't indulged in for so long. So why now? Smothering any bits of turmoil that snuck around his mental blocks, he resolved to be normal by the time the meeting started. That was the least he could do.

* * *

"And, for the last time," Jee sighed, looking at the piles of scrolls on the table in front of him, "no, we cannot, in fact, afford stipends for the crew to have 'pleasure breaks' at every port."

Groans of protest came out from the crowd of personnel.

"It's a waste of money." Jee growled, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're all more than welcome to spend your own salary chasing after courtesans from dingy brothels, but I'm drawing the line at cutting into the armory budget."

Sighs of discontent swelled up, hiding well placed curses.

"Great." Jee threw his hands up in the air, signaling the end of the argument, "Moving on… we have a paperwork issue to remedy. Apparently, no one's medical files were properly transported. This means that-"

The door was thrown open, a short figure barreled through, stopping only to raise their chin and stare down the uneasy onlookers.

"Prince Zuko." Jee addressed, blinking while holding open a letter, "I wasn't expecting you, sir."

The prince sneered, violently crossing his arms, "I command this vessel, I don't answer to _you_."

Jee took a very deep breath, and through gritted teeth, answered, "Of course not, sir. I only meant that these kind of meetings are beneath you."

"You do not decide what my duties are." Prince Zuko glared as hard as he could with one eye covered, "I'm here to make sure you don't screw up the EASY task of keeping _ORDER_ , Lieutenant!"

Some people in the crowd visibly flinched, the rest looked down, still and forlorn.

"Right. Sir." Jee spit out, feeling a tugging sensation to open up a bottle of hard liquor.

"Excellent." Prince Zuko replied, a scowl etching hard lines into his soft features, "Then you won't mind if I sit and listen."

"No, sir." Jee said, stifling a loud sigh, "Not at all."

Nodding, Prince Zuko marched over to the nearest table, and sat down, his crossed arms and near constant glare giving off a facsimile of authority. The rest of the crew, who were spread out among two or three tables in the mess hall, unconsciously began shifting closer to each other. There weren't many of them to begin with, the entire crew consisted of no more than thirty or so people, and that was being generous.

Jee, mustering up what strength he had, continued, "As I was saying, there was a mishap during the transfer of everyone's medical history, so starting tomorrow, there will be appointments with Asa - the ship doctor - to rectify it."

Despite the prince watching carefully, the apparent awfulness of what he said caused people to start their usual protests, complete with rolled eyes and well placed withering looks.

"And, yes, it's mandatory." Jee put his hand up to stop the louder and more rambunctious lot from yelling, "I have copies of the schedule right here, feel free to sort through at the end."

It still didn't stop someone from piping up, "No one gives a shit!"

Jee whipped his head toward the source, despite the relatively small crowd, he couldn't find a particularly guilty or smug looking face. No one looking at the culprit with admiration or disdain either. Smart. And annoying.

"If that's everyone's attitude, then feel free to skip it. And the next time someone gets an infected cut or broken bone and it gets treated with the wrong salve or herbs and they die of anaphylactic shock, it'll certainly be tragic but hey, at least you didn't have to get up off your lazy asses and do something moderately inconvenient!" Jee snapped, glaring at the crowd as they shifted uncomfortably. Asa looked relatively appreciative. "Good. Follow the schedule and we shouldn't have any problems."

A resounding "Yes, sir." echoed off the walls, tinged with guilt and shame.

Gathering himself into something resembling a calm and professional veneer, Jee took a breath, "Excellent. Now, Lieutenant Eiko has already drawn up the schedules for cleaning and other necessary jobs, make sure to figure out which shifts are yours."

Somebody raised their hand, and smothering an eye roll, Jee gestured for them to ask their question.

"So, um, sir." The soldier stuttered, a young boy who could barely look him in the eye, "What exactly are the policies on exchanging shifts or, uh, schedules?"

"Pikeman Yuuto, correct?" Jee said, watching carefully as he stiffened and nodded, "Well, all I have to say is as long as it gets done, I don't care. Got it?" 

"Yes, sir." He squeaked, ignoring the snickers that were directed his way.

Sergeant Toma seemed to be the main perpetrator, whispering to his fellow marines in hushed tones. So far, they tended to be the troublemakers. Which was expected, considering the kind of people that had been picked. Still, Jee was ready to start throwing them overboard for the headaches they caused.

"Alright, thank you, Pikeman." Jee said, ignoring the harsh chattering filling the room, "Onto the next order of business-"

"Sir!" Sergeant Toma, lounging against the metal table, called out, a malicious grin on his face.

Jee, feeling his blood pressure spike, kept as still as possible, "Yes, Sergeant Toma?"

"I was just wondering the policy on wearing civilian clothes?" He asked, waving his hand around, shooting a smug glance over to the soldier sitting next to Pikeman Yuuto.

"You don't. Not while you're on a military ship." Jee said, narrowing his eyes. Sergeant Toma was up to something, he had definitely already known that.

"Oh? Not even while you're off duty?" Sergeant Toma continued, getting snarkier as he went on.

Jee sighed, "No. What's this about, Sergeant?"

"Oh, nothing." Sergeant Toma waved his hand, "It just seems that someone here didn't know that."

Seaman Daitan growled an angry curse.

"Are you officially reporting a breach in code?" Jee inquired, exhausted.

"Oh, well, if you say it like that, sir…" Sergeant Toma grinned viciously, "I really can't fault Seaman Daitan. It's all that dirt in her blood, right? Clogs up her brain."

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER-" She yelled, jumping out of her seat with a wild look in her eyes.

"QUIET!" Jee shouted over them both, everybody stopping to look at him.

Even the prince stood up straighter, looking briefly panicked as he stared at the lieutenant, hiding heavy breaths. Jee didn't have the time to process that, instead choosing to shelve it away for later.

"Sergeant Toma, you do _not_ insult a fellow soldier's heritage on this vessel! Am I understood?" Jee asked, voice low and intense, glaring at the perpetrator.

Not meeting Jee's scornful look, Sergeant Toma nodded once.

"Good." Jee said, tearing away from the marine and turning his attention to the woman who was still seething, "Seaman Daitan, considering the gravity of the insult, I'll let you off with a warning. But be warned that if you yell at someone in front of me again, there _will_ be consequences."

"Yes, sir." She spit out, staring holes into the ground.

"Excellent. As for your apparent wearing of non-authorized garments, it was a clear violation of set rules. You're assigned laundry duty for the rest of the week." Jee ordered, turning back to the schedule he'd thrown on the table.

"WHAT?!" Seaman Daitan screamed, violently whipping her head towards him.

"Are you contesting the accusation?" Jee calmly endured, raising an eyebrow.

She paused, startled, "Well, no-"

"So you're _admitting_ it?" Jee said, a touch of surprise in his voice.

"No- I mean, just," She groaned, falling back into her seat, muttering, "I'll accept my punishment, sir."

Jee finally let out a sigh, not caring as the prince carefully studied him, as quiet and curious as he'd seen him.

"Alright," Jee stood up, massaging his temple, "the last order of business is about our stop at port tomorrow…"

* * *

"That _stupid_ asshat!" Daitan cursed, kicking the industrial washing machine before her, "Who the hell does he think he is?!"

"Do I want to know which one you're talking about?" Yuuto said, shoving a bundle of clothes into the gaping maw of the washer.

"Both! Obviously!" She turned to him, shoving a finger in his chest, " _You_ better not rat me out!"

He raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back.

"I won't! Now can I please get back to work?"

She crossed her arms and frowned deeply, "You do that."

"Thank you." He sighed, shaking his head as he closed the lid with a resounding thunk.

"Agh! Just-" Daitan threw her hands down in exasperation, "Agni! I fucking hate people!"

"I know, Daitan." Yuuto sighed as he dumped a container of eye-stinging soap into its designated hole at the top of the washing machine, "I know."

"At least _your_ laundry shift is only for two days!" Daitan glowered, almost pouting, "A whole week! And just because Sergeant Toma is a shit-chugging fuckhead!"

Yuuto paused to stare at her, "You know, I don't think I've heard that one before."

"Can it, island boy!" Daitan glared at him.

He blinked, "You know that the entire Fire Nation is technically a bunch of islands… right?"

She put her head in her hands, flattening them against the sides of her skull, desperately trying to not pull out chunks of hair, "Ugh! Shut up! No logic right now!"

"Okay, okay." Yuuto sighed, defeated. He looked at her, obviously debating something, before blurting out, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

She stared incredulously, "What?"

"Don't yell at me!" He pointed at her, uncomfortable as he continued, "Just… maybe you'd like to talk about _why_ Sergeant Toma got to you?"

"'Why'?" She repeated, indignant. She leaned in, and muttered with conviction, as she unflinchingly made steady eye contact, "He _insulted_ me. That's _why_."

Yuuto gulped, "That's… that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Daitan spit out, a burning rage flowing in her blood, spreading and consuming everything in its path, "You want me to talk about how he's right? How I'm so ashamed I want to burn every inch of Earth Kingdom out of me? Do you?"

Despite the spike of adrenaline that had overtaken his system, Yuuto steeled himself, "Yes. If that's what you need."

She recoiled immediately, stumbling back as her eyes froze in a wide, frantic stare. It took a minute to move, and when she did, she had begun to laugh.

"You're an odd kid, Yuuto." She said, taking shaky breaths when she'd finally regained control of herself.

He didn't say anything. With crossed arms, he waited for her to talk.

Daitan didn't meet his expectant gaze, unsure of how to proceed, she sighed.

"You're really not gonna let this go. Seriously?" She said, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head.

"Alright. Fine." She caved, pointedly refusing to turn towards him, "If you tell _anyone_ about what I'm going to say, I'll end you."

Yuuto silently nodded.

"So…" Daitan began, her mouth dry and her throat scratchy, "my mom was Fire Nation. I've mentioned that before. She raised me, by herself, in the colonies. And I just… I never really _thought_ my dad was different. A lot of people there looked like me, acted like me, so I just… got used to it," she shrugged, "I didn't know it was shameful until I saw a soldier that had come to our town. I ran up, I was a kid, you know, excited and all that shit. Until he turned and spit out 'fucking spark rock'."

Yuuto glanced down. It wasn't some simple childish or foolishly crafted name. _That_ one was probably the worst thing you could call someone from the colonies, a grave insult.

"Yeah," she chuckled forlornly, "that was a rude awakening. When I joined up, it got worse. I mean, I even chose the navy because earthbenders _hate_ leaving land!" Daitan's voice got softer, "It didn't help. I mean, sure, the names were bad. But the pity? The pity's somehow _worse_. Because they think they're being _kind_ by reminding me that I'm an insult to our nation, to Agni. They think it's just awful that my poor mother got caught by a savage and forced to have me, because no _honorable_ woman would willingly fraternize with the enemy."

Yuuto put his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, clenching her muscles and feeling suspicion creep in. Eventually, she let her guard down.

"And they're right. No honorable Fire Nation woman would do such a thing." Her voice shifted, "And my mother forfeited hers the second she touched that Earth Kingdom soldier and called it love."

Yuuto blinked. Again and again until her words truly sunk in, the implications of them echoing throughout his body.

"She… it wasn't… forced?" He croaked, looking so unsteady and more breakable than she'd ever seen him.

"No." She growled the word out with venom soaking it through, "And that's _worse_ , somehow. Spirits, how is it worse?"

"Daitan…" Yuuto uneasily began, trying to hold himself together, "she's not you. I-I know you're loyal to our nation, I _know_ you're a true citizen. More than your mother ever was."

"A fucking _earthbender_ , Yuuto." Daitan angrily muttered, glaring harshly at the ground, "Why… why would she do that? Why would she let me _exist_?"

Yuuto swallowed, and answered as honestly as possible, "I… I don't know. I can't tell you why or how, but… I know this much. You… are very strong, and determined, and _loyal_. You have honor, despite what your mother has done. You fight for our glorious country, and you don't let anybody stop you. I admire you."

Stunned, Daitan looked at him with wonder, "Did you hit your head as a baby?"

Yuuto sputtered, "I try to be _nice_ and this is how you thank-"

A note of high laughter interrupted him, "Spirits, you're easy to rile up." Daitan rubbed at her eye with the back of her hand, "But, you know, thanks and all."

Yuuto sighed, looking at her with moderate annoyance, "Glad to help."

"Now," She started, sniffling, "let's get back to work. This laundry's not gonna wash itself."

"Yes, sir." Yuuto replied, shoving a bundle of clothes into her arms and watching with delight as she blanched on remembering the controls of the washing machine. They were an odd pair, but it didn't feel so bad in that moment. No poignant reminder of being a shameful failure just for existing, just two soldiers, doing their jobs. Maybe this was something they could get used to. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. So, what Daitan and Yuuto are saying is objectively awful, but they've also been raised to be solely loyal to an ethnocentric country so this largely impacts their perceptions of other cultures and ethnicities. Zhao's speech about fire as the superior element? And in the episode where Aang pretended to be Kuzon? Fire Nation mainlanders do NOT treat outside people right. It's also a propaganda tactic to dehumanize the other side to convince their own citizens that it's not _that_ bad, so this leads to people alienating people who aren't of "pure" heritage (blegh).
> 
> Also it's really interesting writing identity struggles, because it's something personal for me as a half-native woman who's dealt with a lot of internalized shit so it's cathartic to get it out in the form of Daitan (I just took my issues, cranked them to 100 and edited it all for ATLA purposes). Fanfic is my therapy at this point.
> 
> There was no reason for me to have an extended conversation between Asa and Eiko about playwrights and philosophy? Other to emphasize the disadvantages non-rich people (Yuuto) have when it comes to the hierarchical structure of the Fire Nation (you can't tell me Ozai would divert funds for Public Schools). But there was no other reason and I'm sorry for that, they're the only stable(ish) people on board so they're gonna talk about boring shit.


	7. Old Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zhao shows up at port. No one is pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I rewrote this thing a bunch and I'm still not quite happy but here we are. Things are heating up folks! Also here is a sketch of [Maemi](https://innogens-breadsticks.tumblr.com/post/624753088079839232/a-maemi-sketch).

"Oh, Agni, I've never felt happier to be in a port than right now." Yuuto sighed, throwing his head back and letting the sun wash over his face.

Standing on the dock that snuggly fit the _Wani's_ exterior, his arms were raised up at his sides, hands extended towards the sun. It wasn't an odd thing to see during meditation, but in the midst of a bustling market, with plenty of Earth Kingdom citizens, it was something to gawk at.

A chilly breeze rippled through the air, a common occurrence in the southern seas, and though Daitan hissed through clenched teeth and firmly crossed her arms, Yuuto remained unaffected.

Daitan smacked his upper arm, "Stop being weird, we're getting looks."

He cracked open one eye to stare at her, "I literally could not care less."

"I will drag you back on the ship and drop you at Asa's feet." Daitan threatened, her fists on her hips and leaning in, "I'm in charge of you, and we're not supposed to be doing anything 'attention grabbing' or 'strenuous'. Those were everyone's exact words."

Yuuto stuck his tongue out, and Daitan scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I've been cooped up in the ship for weeks! Lighten up." He said, finally dropping his arms, "I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."

"Good, 'cause if I lose you I think Asa will make me disappear." She shivered, "He wants you to think he's harmless but he's _not_."

Yuuto rolled his eyes, "If you want to get on his good side, just drink his tea when he offers it."

Daitan put a hand over her mouth and gagged, "Yeah, I'll take death, thanks."

Sighing, Yuuto began walking towards the more populated parts of the market, waving Daitan along. She trudged to catch up, ignoring the tangled looks of disgust and fear that were sent towards them. Daitan had doubts about the 'neutrality' of the port.

"So, what's first on your list?" She asked, gaze firmly ignoring the way children seemed to clear an immediate path on their way to hide, "Food? Drink?" Daitan paused as a devilish grin snuck its way onto her face, "Brothels?"

Yuuto involuntarily stiffened, every nerve in his body stretching and shattering into jumbled pieces, all swept up in a current of shock. His movements were clumsy and inorganic as his neck attempted something akin to a turn, his scandalized visage pallid and still.

Daitan chuckled as his mouth gaped and moved with no sound.

"Okay, okay, no sex workers." She raised her hands in metaphorical defeat, "Got it."

Swallowing hard, Yuuto slowly began to face back around, moving his limp and weary joints further and further down the row of endless stands and hurried voices. All calling about the freshest produce or catch, twinkling voices silkily caressing passing ears with wild tales about some dusty, ancient antique. There were thieves, bards, drunkards, and traders. Some would say there's hardly any difference. But it wasn't the _Wani_ , it wasn't a stifling, sticky fear that consumed his every waking moment. Maybe that was exaggeration, but the prince _scared_ him.

"Yo!" Daitan called, waving a hand in his face, "You didn't answer my question."

"Oh." Yuuto replied, stopping in his tracks, "Right. Well, uh, I don't really have a set plan."

Daitan's eyes flashed annoyance as they rolled, "Figures. Are we just gonna fuck around the whole time?"

"Don't say it like that!" Yuuto chastised, "Besides, I was going to mail that letter to Izanami. You know, like we'd planned?"

Daitan paused, "Right. Um, funny story…"

"You forgot?" The look on his face might've been funny, if his voice hadn't so poorly masked the pain.

A flicker of guilt caught and spread, and Daitan didn't know how to deal with it.

She couldn't lie. "Uh, well, yes…"

His face almost fell before he caught it, a piss poor attempt at trying to seem composed. This was just pathetic, she thought.

"But…" she started, infusing the word with as much positivity as could be wrenched from her disposition (it wasn't much), "Now we have a goal! Finding some parchment and ink!" 

Yuuto was nothing, if not skeptical, "That's a shitty joke."

She sighed, "I swear I'm not joking."

He looked at her, before a spark of delight lit itself in amber eyes as the words, "Pinkie promise?", spilled out of his mouth.

Daitan froze, "... are you fucking with me?"

He blinked, a violent flush rising in his cheeks, and started stuttering, "S-Sorry, bad habit. You know, little kids and all. Some of the guys in my old unit made fun of me for it…"

Daitan was probably losing her mind, but she really couldn't pass this opportunity up, "No, no, you _offered_. You can't just rescind it!"

He stared, "You… aren't joking."

"Nope." She popped the 'p' while sticking up her pinky,. "Pony up, soldier boy."

He hid his face with a hand, "Stop! You're not helping."

"Oh?" Daitan said, raising an eyebrow, "I suppose with nothing binding me to my offer, I have no other choice but to do nothing."

Yuuto tore down his wall of fingers to glare at her, "You. Are _awful_."

"I'm waiting…" she sing-songed, wagging her finger in his face.

Grumbling under his breath, Yuuto refused to meet her eyes as he slowly brought up his pinky, begrudgingly hooking it around hers. Snickering softly, Daitan gave it a good shake, before releasing her appendage from it's tentative hold.

"See, that wasn't so bad." She gently scuffed his shoulder with her fist.

Still embarrassed and frazzled, Yuuto responded with wheezing anger, unintelligible insults that Daitan was sure he'd never used before. She was almost flattered. Still, he trudged next to her, both of them setting out on what would be to most, an unimportant task. But with genuine, malice free laughter roiling in her gut for the first time in years, Daitan was forced to admit that maybe it wasn't as stupid as she wanted to believe it to be. That was dangerous, but wasn't everything?

* * *

Jee didn't even know why he bothered at this point. Sure, maybe he'd get lucky and find some podunk town that never got any news from the last year or so, and maybe they'd _finally_ give him some decent supplies. But no. The Spirits hated him, apparently, and made it clear that no matter what he did, he'd never outsmart them. Frankly, he was too tired to even fight it anymore, it took all he had not to look completely dead-eyed as another officer explained that, once again, tragedy had struck in the form of ration and weapons shortages. Total bullshit.

"So, as you can see, we really can't, uh, afford to give away things all willynilly." The old captain muttered, half-heartedly explaining his position.

"Right." Jee scowled, nodding his head once.

Unclasping his hands from their position at the small of his back, Jee gave a stunted bow, only long enough to be acceptable. Straightening up, he was about to order Lieutenant Eiko to find 'other options' (which meant locate the cheapest deal for bags of rice or noodles and haggle from there) and Helmsman Kosei to go back to the ship, when a grating chuckle came from behind him.

Everything froze as complete and utter horror seemed to blanket Jee's thoughts, turning very carefully, he sent fervent prayers, begging for Agni's mercy. But as he set his sights on a smug man with dark sideburns, he was sure that he'd been cursed.

"Lieutenant Jee!" Zhao called out, marching over with his small retinue of masked soldiers, "Funny seeing you here."

Jee tersely nodded, "Lieutenant Zhao."

The two crewmembers froze behind him, shooting carefully veiled looks at each other. Jee had made it perfectly clear who was responsible for sending the letters that had so obviously fucked them over.

"My, how long has it been? Two, three years?" Zhao asked, taking utter delight with everyone's growing discomfort, "I'd say it's nice to see you, but…"

"I have to go." Jee said, keeping his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, so soon?" Zhao asked, feigning hurt, "For an old academy buddy, you seem so eager to get rid of me. Surely, you can stay a while."

"Apologies." Jee spit out, "But I have a ship to run and a crew to maintain."

"Really? They gave _you_ a vessel? After your disastrous job at Ba Sing Se, I'm surprised. Well, that, and your… attitude." Zhao said, maintaining a satisfied smirk.

"If you'll excuse me, Lieutenant." Jee said, remaining neutral and attempting to walk past him.

Zhao held up a hand, "Now, now, not so fast. I have a… few questions, they're urgent, you see, from the Firelord himself."

Jee stopped, keeping his jaw taut and shut. It was no secret that Zhao manipulated, betrayed, and brown-nosed his way to power, and worst of all, it always _worked_. Somehow, that slightly annoying, ambitious kid he'd known had fallen into favor with Firelord himself, a dangerous, but intoxicating place to be.

"Hmm? Nothing to add? No vicious, blunt quips?" Zhao laughed out loud as Jee's fists clenched, "Oh, well, it was only a matter of time before you learned your place, it's just disappointing it took so many years."

Jee couldn't afford to to viciously assault another soldier, that would truly be the last straw. Briefly, he considered the idea of an Agni Kai, before starkly reminding himself that it most likely wouldn't end in his favor. Zhao fought dirty whenever he could.

"What do you want?" Jee growled, levelling an angry glare at him.

"Oh, I guess you haven't quite had obedience beaten into you, yet." Zhao leaned in, arms firmly resting behind him, "But we'll see to that soon."

Jee wanted to roll his eyes, and usually, he would have, had not the threat been very real. He didn't have the protection of relative anonymity, being exchanged and dropped on different officers constantly, but now he was outside of the Fire Nation, an outlier. Zhao could pretty much do whatever he wanted, as long as he was careful about it.

"I just wanted an update on the prince, about his mission?" Zhao asked, a malicious grin spreading, "Any news on the, uh, Avatar?"

Jee took a breath, ignoring the tense looks on the people behind him, "If you want to ask Prince Zuko about his progress, I'll be more than happy to take a message."

Zhao hummed in disappointment, pulling back, "Is that so? I'll have to do just that."

Jee hid a sigh. Zhao had begun turning around, probably to order his group of soldiers to go back, before he paused.

"Why don't you all accompany me to my ship?" Zhao offered, with a calculating twitch of his face, "It's been so long, why not… catch up?"

A trap. It wouldn't seem like that, at first, with idle conversation and well made tea, but Jee had fallen for it before. He couldn't afford to do it again.

Bowing, Jee answered, "I apologize, Lieutenant. But I can't accept, we have urgent business in port today. We must gather new supplies."

"Really?" Zhao said, disbelief coating his voice, "But you've already tried that, and failed. Or did you forget that you were turned away just now?"

Jee didn't falter or react, remaining as passive as he could.

"But…" Zhao trailed off, tempting, "if it's really such a concern, perhaps we can… work something out. Over tea, perhaps?"

It was a stupid, obvious ploy, but one Jee was close to accepting. They needed food, and decent armor, and coal, they needed _everything_ and Jee was running out of ideas on how to get it all. His blood boiled and protested the idea, his inner flame raged and burned alongside it. Jee swallowed, he wasn't sure what exactly Zhao wanted, but it wasn't good.

"Sir…" Lieutenant Eiko muttered, leaning over, "we can find something else."

"We don't have to do this, sir." Helmsman Kosei quietly pleaded.

Jee's breath hissed through his clenched teeth, "I don't like it either."

"I saw a stand coming in, two silver pieces for a pound of dried noodles." Eiko said, hushed, "It'd be tight but…"

"It's not just food…" Jee trailed off, "We need coal, and armor. Spirits, have you _seen_ the state of some of the weaponry?"

Lieutenant Eiko shook her head, "We'll figure it out, sir. But we can't… I don't trust him, sir."

"Smart." Jee replied, whispering, "You shouldn't. But I'll do it, alone."

"Sir, we can't just… leave you." Helmsman Kosei hissed, offended at the very thought, "It'd be dishonorable!"

"We don't have a choice!" Jee raised his voice, loud enough to catch Zhao's attention, "Go back to the ship. And… inform the general of my plans, the young prince too. I need them to know what's going on. Can you two do that?"

"Sir-" Lieutenant Eiko shifted uncomfortably.

"That's an order, Lieutenant!" Jee said, stern and unyielding.

She swallowed, and very carefully nodded her head.

"Good." Jee sighed, "I don't know what he wants, but if it doesn't go well…"

"We'll find another way, sir." She answered numbly.

"Now go!" He harshly commanded, pointing them back towards where the _Wani_ had docked.

With fire alight at their feet, they marched off with purpose, a bit too rushed to truly be collected. Jee felt almost touched that they seemed to care, but let the spark extinguish as he turned to face an all-too-happy Zhao. Grinning in a way that managed to turn his stomach, Jee watched with blatant suspicion.

"We haven't got time to waste, Lieutenant." Zhao called out, turning on his heel, "Follow me, there's much to discuss."

Jee gritted his teeth, and with a wrench of his head, followed the man who'd so smugly trapped him. He noticed with creeping dread that the soldiers who had been trailing Zhao had now slowly come to surround him, blocking Jee on all sides. This, he thought with a vehement disappointment in his decision making skills, was the stupidest thing he'd ever done.

* * *

Zuko was _not_ pouting, despite whatever Uncle Iroh had said! He wasn't! He was… decompressing. There, that was a thing, right? He was just decompressing in his room, in the dark, with his covers pulled over his head. Zuko was absolutely _not_ upset about not being able to go into port.

Okay, maybe, he was, like, a little mad. Actually, he was a lot mad, not that it really mattered. Maybe Zuko wanted to get off the ship for a few hours, to longer feel the shifting and pulling of the dark, deadly ocean under him, or constantly smell smoke and the permeating scent of poor hygiene that seemed to soak into every inch of the vessel. He was so utterly sick of being trapped with strangers, who ~~feared~~ hated him, and who just _wouldn't_ listen unless he screamed loud enough to echo off the walls several floors below.

But if he left the relative safety (at that, he wanted to scoff, _what_ safety?) of the _Wani_ while in his condition… it wasn't a good idea. It didn't matter how neutral the port was, the injured prince of the Fire Nation was too good an opportunity to pass up. So when his uncle, with his _stupid_ worried eyes, told him he couldn't leave, Zuko had immediately retaliated with a defensive statement that he did not, in fact, want to go to some Earth Kingdom market. (It was a lie, and it wasn't even a good one. How Azula managed to do it with relative ease was something that seemed to be beyond him, as were most things concerning her talents.)

Curled up on a flat, generic mattress with a drab, scratchy blanket tucked and wrapped around his limbs, he couldn't even dredge up the energy to try and move. The candles on the other side of the room weren't even lit, like they were supposed to be. Uncle had tried that once, but once he'd seen Zuko's face, well…

A knock on the solid metal door interrupted Zuko's thoughts, a solid three in a steady rhythm. It was his uncle. He buried his head even further in the warm, uncomfortable embrace of his blanket, trying to ignore the inevitable creak of poorly greased metal hinges.

"Nephew?" Iroh softly called out, it was only the two of them now, "Are you awake?"

Zuko threw off the thin scrap of cloth, rolling over to glare at him.

"I am now, uncle." He answered, viciousness seeping up.

The old man almost looked pained, and Zuko felt a twinge of guilty satisfaction, "My apologies, nephew."

Rolling back over so he no longer had to keep up a scowl, Zuko asked, "What do you want, uncle?"

Iroh seemed to perk up a bit, "I was just wondering if you'd enjoy a sporting game of Pai Sho? Or some more tea? Ooh! Or both at the same time-"

"No!" Zuko shouted, curling in on himself, "Go away."

Iroh sighed, "Alright, nephew. If you want to stay by yourself in your room for hours…"

Zuko resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and raised a hand up to wave his uncle away. Shaking his head, Iroh stepped out and reached to close the door. Thundering steps came rushing down the hall before he could start shutting it.

"General Iroh, sir!" The breathless words came out rushed and tinny, Zuko could hear them clearly despite them being in the hall.

Zuko lifted his head to catch a glimpse of his uncle's response. Iroh had turned to look at whoever had spoken, with wide eyed surprise, and an underlying layer of concern. Zuko raised his eyebrow, that wasn't a good sign.

"Oh, Lieutenant Eiko." He said, slightly confused, "I didn't know you and Lieutenant Jee were back."

"Sir, he's not back." She answered as Zuko began pushing his blanket away.

"Oh?" Iroh replied, curious, "What happened?"

"We… got intercepted by another officer. Lieutenant Zhao."

Zuko shot up and scrambled out of bed, hitting the ground with a thud before he was able to properly stand. Iroh turned to see what was wrong, before gently shaking his head as his nephew awkwardly dusted off his shoulders.

"Prince Zuko, you seem… interested." Iroh noted, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up, uncle!" He hissed, narrowing his eyes.

He marched towards the door, pushing past Iroh, and stepping out into the hall. His thudding stomps came to a halt in front of Lieutenant Eiko, the sheen on her bare hands dimly reflecting the red lights of the ship. She had her helmet on, in accordance with regulation that no one else seemed to follow.

"Prince Zuko." She greeted, bowing dutifully, "Lieutenant Jee sent me to inform both you and General Iroh about his… sudden change in plans."

"Tell me what happened." Zuko ordered, low and serious, glaring at her with all the might he could muster, " _Now_ , Lieutenant!"

Rather than gulp or shudder at his bluster, she nodded calmly. Odd. Zuko didn't entirely mind.

"Yes, sir." She stiffened as she tried to take a silent breath, and would've almost succeeded had Zuko not been so on edge, "We were discussing a possible deal with the Fire Nation supply outpost, when Lieutenant Zhao arrived. He initially offered conversation, which was declined by the acting Captain, before he eventually relented and ordered Helmsman Kosei and I back to the _Wani_ to inform both you - and General Iroh - about what had transpired."

Zuko looked away and ground his teeth, "Zhao is a crony, I've seen him before, at the…" the word stuck in his throat, "palace. He's trying something and I won't let him."

Lieutenant Eiko seemed almost _relieved_ at his words, the tension from her perfected posture easing up the slightest bit.

"And Lieutenant Jee went with him? _Willingly_?" Zuko asked, turning back to her.

"That would be too strong a word, sir." Lieutenant Eiko answered dimly, as cold, harsh tones were wrapping her words, "Lieutenant Zhao offered a… deal of sorts, if Lieutenant Jee… _talked_ with him. With little other option, he was forced to accept."

Zuko growled, "Lieutenant Jee should know better. Anybody with half a brain wouldn't go near Zhao!"

"Perhaps, sir." She replied, very careful not to make her agreement too obvious.

"No one on any crew should be so foolish!" Zuko snapped, his brow pressed low on his forehead, "Now _I_ have to go deal with it!"

General Iroh coughed, "Are you sure that's the best course of action, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko whipped his head to glare holes at his uncle, "Of course it is! If Lieutenant Jee thinks he can so blatantly disregard common sense like this, then it's _my_ job to correct it!"

Lieutenant Eiko didn't bother suppressing the grin hidden by her helmet.

"Sir," she said with the utmost professional gratitude, "what are your orders?"

* * *

Every sense of his screamed at him to run, all those finely tuned instincts after years of war and siege that had been trained to detect even the smallest possibilities of danger were more alight than he'd ever felt. Jee carefully lifted the cup of steaming Ginseng to his mouth and took a small sip, unsurprised at it's relatively excellent flavor. Setting it back down on the handcrafted wood table, Jee made sure to note each guard that seemed to be stationed at every corner or door.

"So, Lieutenant, mind telling me about what happened after Ba Sing Se?" Zhao asked with a forced air of nonchalance.

Jee's grip tightened as he muttered through clenched teeth, "What do you mean?"

Zhao laughed, an ugly, arrogant thing, before resting his gaze back on Jee, "Well, as an old friend, I do feel nothing but the deepest sympathies about the, uh, tragedy that befell your former ship."

"Thank you for your kind regard." Jee said, the words stinging his raging mind.

"I mean, floating mines? Who could've predicted it, besides those Water Savages." Zhao shrugged, a small, satisfied smile in place, "If I remember right, that was the last time you were in command of a vessel. Before now, that is."

Jee made sure his hands didn't leave his sides in an unknowing attempt at homicide, "I don't command the _Wani_."

"Right. The banished prince." Zhao rolled the word with dark amusement, "You expect me to believe you're taking orders from an incompetent _child_. I know you better than that."

Jee's face didn't move, and it was only the gleam in his eye that conveyed the utter satisfaction of saying, "I guess your opinion of me is rather dated."

Zhao's eyes narrowed as a more stormy look set in, "Do you really want to play this game, Lieutenant? So pointlessly guarding a worthless heap of scrap, it's pathetic."

The fangs had come out. Jee had to be very cautious, "It's my job."

Zhao leaned in, "But do you want it to be? I could… call in a favor. You could go home, and that's what you want, isn't it? And all you'd have to do… is leave the prince. Maybe stir up some trouble, you're awfully good at that."

"There's nothing for me to go back to." Jee very simply answered, "And what you're suggesting is illegal."

"Oh? Trouble in paradise?" Zhao asked with a shark-like grin, "But if you're really so dead set against it, I'm afraid I'll have to withdraw any offers I've made."

Jee twitched, "That's unfortunate."

"Isn't it? Considering the state of your vessel, it's just horrible that we have nothing to spare. Sorry to get your hopes up." Zhao paused, considering something, "But… you don't _have_ to go back to it."

"What?" Jee said, confused.

"You don't want to go home? Fine." Zhao said, putting his arm on the table and stretching the other in a wide gesture that encapsulated most of the room, "Come work for me, Jee."

Jee was stunned. Of all the things Zhao could've said, this wasn't something he'd been expecting.

"You wouldn't be forced into banishment alongside the prince, there'd be no haggling with your own military." Zhao continued, "You're a smart man, I'd hate to see that go to waste on a useless quest. I'm offering an opportunity for power and redemption, I'm sure I could convince the Firelord of your worth."

"You're lying." Jee retorted, glaring, "You're trying to manipulate me and it won't work."

"I'm hurt, really. I could never do such a thing to you." Zhao leaned back, feigning emotional injury, "This is a completely serious offer, one I'd suggest giving some thought to."

Jee looked at him, studying for even the slightest tic or twitch, _something_ that would give way to a lie or half-truth. There was nothing.

"You… You're serious." He admitted, staring in shock, " _Why_?"

"I told you," Zhao smiled with an edge, glancing over half-lidded, "It'd be a tragedy to waste your talent and skill. And it would be quite the blow to take away one of the few half-competent people on that ship."

"I don't really like the prince. Or the mission." Jee said, much to Zhao's satisfaction, "But if that's your goal I'm afraid I can't help you."

Zhao narrowed his eyes, "That's an unfortunate answer. Truly, it is. But if that's an unacceptable arrangement, we can come to terms with something else. I _do_ want to make this work."

"I'm not going to betray my crew." Jee firmly stated.

" _Your_ crew?" Zhao laughed, "Didn't you just say they weren't yours? Or do you just have a soft spot for someone specific?"

Jee bristled, "It's my duty and I won't abandon it."

"Hmm." Zhao hummed, tapping the table, "If you insist on being difficult then I can't help you. And I _want_ to help. It's what's best for everyone."

"You're asking me to do something dishonorable to a member of the royal family!" Jee burst out, slamming his hand on the table.

The soldiers stationed around them began to close in, levelling spears at his chest. Jee stood up, and old, worn muscles were stretched into a familiar stance, one ready to take on any enemy before him. Zhao hid his annoyance as he threw a hand up to stop the enclosing circle of guards, and slowly, they pulled back, keeping a wary eye on their Lieutenant's guest.

"I'd refrain from any more outbursts." Zhao muttered, glaring at the person on the opposite side of the table, "We're both reasonable people, Jee. How long have we known each other?"

Instead of answering, Jee preferred to stare in bitter rage, waiting to leave and never come back.

Zhao sighed, "You're acting like the boy is still the Crown Prince. I'll let you in on a little secret." Zhao leaned over the table, a vicious gleam in his muted amber eyes as he spoke, "Firelord Ozai plans on revoking his birthright."

Jee stilled, his inner fire flickering and sputtering as realization slammed full force into his skull, "I… his banishment is _temporary_ , it's to teach him a lesson-"

"A lesson that already involved half his face?" Zhao raised an eyebrow and Jee paled, "You may be sentimental but you haven't grown _this_ dull, have you?"

Jee swallowed as something cold slid in his veins, "The Firelord… isn't letting him come back…"

"Ding, ding, ding! Right answer." Zhao replied, subtly surprised, "Took you long enough."

"It's an impossible task, I'll admit it-" Jee said, panic stricken, "but that's the point! Zuko would learn his lesson, beg to come back, and he wouldn't be banished anymore. His birthright is still intact!"

"A foolish idea." Zhao said, "He's _weak_ , but if Firelord Ozai had revoked it right after his banishment… some already concerned citizens might become full-blown traitors."

"It's a ploy." Jee whispered as his eyes widened, "Firelord Ozai wants Princess Azula to take the throne."

"Exactly." Zhao had drawn out the word, letting the syllables slide out at the pace of a snail, "And don't you want to help our Firelord? The one chosen by Agni himself? The valiant protector of our nation?"

"I…" Jee said, lost and despondent, "I…"

"This changes everything for you, doesn't it?" Zhao cocked an eyebrow, slyly lowering his voice with practiced sympathy, reaching over to pat his arm, "You're lost. Confused. Do you serve Prince Zuko or the Firelord? Well, you and I both know what the answer _should_ be."

"My life and loyalty belong to our nation." Jee answered with a succinct calmness, having been drawn back from his previous state, "Our nation is our Firelord and his endless mercy."

"I'm so glad we're on the same page." Zhao said, crossing his arms, "Now tell me, have you changed your mind?"

"About… about what?" Jee tentatively asked, barely looking up.

"Why, working for me, of course." Zhao answered with a wide grin that seemed to stretch in just the wrong places to seem forced, angry, "You'd still be dutifully serving the Fire Nation, just… with much less trouble. No more being passed around, or ignored. You would stay here as a respected ally of mine, and you can join me, by the Firelord's side, together we'd obtain the glory and honor we so deserve."

Jee was tempted, an offer like this… was a once in a lifetime - no, once in a _thousand_ lifetimes - kind of opportunity. He liked General Iroh, and he barely tolerated Prince Zuko, but it was still _something_. And even if the Firelord had planned for this, expected this, _wanted_ this, Jee still felt… guilty. He'd be abandoning his new post, leaving dozens of people on a suicidal quest for absolutely nothing.

"If this is really tearing at you that much…" Zhao sighed, "I'll look into getting regular supplies delivered to your little disaster project."

Jee froze. Zhao knew where to hit and when, he remembered that now. He'd been widely disliked at the Naval Academy for that, but not bullied or hated, just… avoided. Almost feared. His family was powerful after all, and nobody messed with a nobleman's clever, petty son. Still, Jee hadn't cared then, only focused on passing his exams instead of some kid whose ego was bigger than it had a right to be and he supposed that must've been intriguing to someone like Zhao. Perhaps it was something like friendship at the time. But it'd been years of experience and treachery since then, and if life had taught Jee anything, it was to take everything Zhao said with a whole bucket of salt.

"Zhao." Jee said, testing the name itself out for the first time in years, no title in front of it, "Prince Zuko is brash, angry, and a Spirits-damned _brat_..."

Zhao seemed to like that, shifting into a more comfortable position with a satisfied smirk.

"But…" Jee sighed, feeling the weight of everything press down, "he's still a _kid_. Our prince. I'm not leaving him and loyal soldiers to die on some impossible quest. Especially for some empty, inflated promise. We both know you have trouble keeping your word."

Zhao scowled, pulling back into something unpleasant, "I had hoped you'd finally come to your senses. But you can't help foolishness, can you?"

Jee, with great effort, formed the flame with his hand as he bowed, having stood up to leave, "I apologize, but I must be going."

"Really? You think you can just _leave_?" Zhao had pushed himself up from his position, hands splayed across the rich staining of the table, the beginnings of a snarl on his face, "You should've gone with me when you had the chance." He turned to the nearest soldier, waiting at attention for orders, "Seize him! And search his ship, find something that'll put him away!"

Arms were grabbing Jee's own before he could move, before he could even _think_ about moving, and wrenching him back down to his seat. He whipped his back to Zhao, who had fully stood up, and was hurriedly smoothing back any stray hairs that had fallen out of his top knot. He tried too hard to be calm, and that was what gave it away. Jee had gotten to him. But Zhao would easily retaliate for that, and if he didn't find something on the _Wani_ , he'd still come up with a reason to get rid of Jee.

"You can't do this!" Jee protested, trying to wrench out of the grasp of his captors, "You know you can't!"

Zhao paused, frowning deeply as his hands were rigidly clasped behind his back. Marching over with a forced, steady cadence, he was different. Much angrier, a cold, burning rage that was closer to the surface than usual. He stopped in front of Jee, stiff and failing his attempts at a collected persona. Zhao's glare was intense, and Jee didn't look away. He had dignity… some of it, anyways.

"You think you can tell _me_ what to do, you pathetic whelp?" Zhao whispered, soft and absolutely filled with absolute fury, until his voice started raising "You're nothing, you're the dust under my boot! You're the shit people scrape from their shoes! You hear me?! YOU'RE NOTHING!"

"You're only trying to convince one of us of that." Jee said, raising a single brow, a deep satisfaction firing his soul up despite the dangerous look that crossed Zhao's face.

"Wretched, worthless scum doesn't get to talk back!" Zhao snarled, grabbing Jee by the panel of his shoulder armor, raising the other hand in the air. He leaned in closer, and spoke into his ear, hissing, "Would you like a scar to match your precious prince?"

Zhao pulled him closer, bringing his other hand down next to his head, sparks flying close enough to sting Jee's face.

Jee was breathing steadily, keeping his mouth closed and eyes steady. He couldn't move, not with the soldiers holding him still, pinning his arms behind his back and twisting them in a way that made it hard to hide the wince. He couldn't run. There was nowhere to escape.

The fire in Zhao's palm raised and licked the hair and skin of Jee's cheek, singing the mostly gray sideburns. Though he couldn't see it directly, he could feel the horrible smile that Zhao probably had fixed in place. Was he serious? Or was this just another empty threat to make Jee behave?

"I was there, you know, so I know how it'll work." Zhao mused, quiet and contemplative, "Though watching and going through with it are two very different things."

If Zhao was considering burning him, scare tactic or not, then he wasn't going to act like Zhao wanted him to. Fear wasn't something he had to give him. Turning his head, he didn't back away as an orange haze moved in and out of his right eye.

"You're a coward, Zhao. And you know it. Power is nothing if you have to live the way you do. You think the Firelord cares about you, beyond the decreasing possibility of your usefulness?" Jee spit out, watching Zhao's careful exterior break and split with each word, "At least I don't betray people at every turn! You wonder why no one willingly joins you? It's because you're selfish and _arrogant_."

Zhao roared, and pulled his hand above his head, engulfing it with a blazing red that Jee had to stop himself from flinching away from. As he started struggling again, Zhao's goons holding him in place, he sent a silent sorry in advance to Asa, who'd complained to him in private that he was running low on burn supplies. As Zhao's fist came down, Jee turned away in vain, he could feel the blaze almost start eating at his flesh.

The door slammed open and everything froze. The flames that had been Jee's sole focus sputtered for a moment, yet still stayed lit. Carefully tilting his head away from Zhao's hand, Jee peeked from the corner of his eye, and the sight made his breath stop.

The kid was at the front, having busted through the door first, already halfway into the room. General Iroh was only a few feet behind, joined by what had to be Lieutenant Eiko in regulation armor. Prince Zuko had paused in his entrance, completely still as he was entranced by the situation he'd walked in on. No, not entranced, Jee realized with a sinking feeling, horrified. Prince Zuko had entered a recreation of some horrible trauma, albeit he was watching this time, but that seemed worse, in a way.

General Iroh's eyes moved from concern for his nephew to complete and utter revulsion as he examined the scene before him, finally settling to stare at Zhao in a cold, dangerous, hair-raising way. Lieutenant Eiko had frozen, almost entirely, before disregarding any sort of etiquette she'd learned by pushing her way past two members of the royal family. Her fist was raised in front of her, and her back foot was planted steadily against the ground.

"Let him go!" She ordered, "Or I'll be forced to take action."

"Oh?" Zhao growled, finally dropping his hand and letting the flames extinguish, "Really? What makes you think you have that authority?"

"You're holding the acting Captain of my ship hostage with intent to harm him," Eiko replied, low and vicious, "I believe I'm justified." 

" _He_ disrespected me." Zhao hissed, confident and unhinged, "Unless you want to share your Lieutenant's fate, then _leave_."

"We're the same rank, Lieutenant Zhao." She replied, refusing to budge, "And you're not the one commanding the ship I'm stationed on, your orders aren't ones I'm very keen on obeying."

"You insolent-" Zhao stepped towards her, hands clenched into fists and face twisted to something barely human.

Prince Zuko bared his teeth and stepped in front of his remaining Lieutenant, blocking her from the approaching officer.

"Oh, Prince Zuko." Zhao stopped, tilting his head to the side as amusement oozed from every pore, "Nice to see you back up, and uh, walking."

"Zhao." He said low and careful, quieter than anyone had heard him in the last few weeks, "What do you think you're doing?"

"What? Isn't it obvious?" He replied, smiling widely, "I'm teaching your subordinates the lessons you've been lax in providing."

Zuko growled, his fingers curled out and stance low, "I said, WHAT do you THINK you're DOING?!"

Zhao winced, "Is the yelling really necessary?"

"YOU have no right to HURT _MY_ CREW!" He screamed, his mouth stretched and grew with each word, pulling and tugging on the tender skin that had just started to grow back, ripping it as blood slowly began seeping through the bandage.

Zhao snarled, annoyed, "A _banished_ prince has no say in how I deal with disrespect!"

"DISRESPECT?!" Zuko howled, "You take _my_ lieutenant and now you lecture _me_ about disrespect?!"

Zhao threw his head back and laughed, an angry, forced thing that grated and dug its way into people's ears, a scuttling parasite of a noise.

" _Your_ lieutenant? Isn't that cute, Jee?" He turned to the man still being held in place by his soldiers, a cunning grin proudly shown off, "He doesn't know you were going to leave."

Jee recoiled, struck first by surprise, and then anger, "Lying, Zhao? I thought you were above such distasteful behavior."

"But is it not true?" Zhao shrugged, a saccharine look of false disappointment being directed at the captured man, "You _were_ considering joining me, to think you would've abandoned your prince so easily…" Zhao turned to Zuko as a splitting smile cut into his face, "And you should be _thanking_ me, Prince Zuko. I've exposed a possible traitor, and am punishing him properly. Surely you don't really want this pathetic excuse of a subordinate to serve with you, our honored future Firelord. I'll be glad to take him off your hands."

Zuko paused mid-roar, surprised by Zhao's change in heart. The kid looked almost _happy_ before his face fell back into lines dug into skin by the pulling and stretching of his persistent scowl. He was suspicious, as he should be.

"You can't expect me to believe that, Zhao." Zuko said, harsh but quieter than before, "I know who you are, and I know what you want. I know you were there and I know you _smiled_."

"Oh?" Zhao replied, now hesitant and unsure.

Jee glanced at him, curiosity buzzing on his veins instead of the adrenaline that had been there moments before. He didn't know what Zuko was talking about, but whatever it was had made Zhao lose the angle he'd been playing at. That wasn't good, Jee grimly noted, a cornered viper-snake was more dangerous, more likely to lash out.

"I've accepted what happened. It was necessary. I showed dishonorable weakness, and that needed to be burned away." Zuko's words made General Iroh flinch, "But you didn't need to _smile_ , you sick _bastard_!"

"Insulting my parents? Is that the best you can do?" Zhao said, practically growling out each word, "So what if I enjoyed a brat getting what he deserved? You said it yourself, it was a needed punishment."

"MY FATHER'S LESSON WAS NOT _YOUR_ ENTERTAINMENT!" Zuko roared, sparks rolling off his tongue and dancing in the air.

Zhao, unsteadily glancing at the General who hadn't stepped in despite the flare in temper, took a measured step back. Fire breathing was a rare kind of mastery, and it didn't bode well for him that the prince seemed to have a knack for it. Jee tried really hard not to smile.

"NOW _SHUT UP_ AND GIVE ME _MY LIEUTENANT_ OR I'LL GIVE YOU A LESSON MYSELF!" Zuko ordered, pointing at Zhao's chest.

"General Iroh, you're letting this insolence go unpunished-" Zhao directed his attention to the silently steaming older man.

"Zhao." General Iroh interrupted, a ferocity in his eyes that Jee hadn't seen since the siege, "I'd suggest listening to my nephew if you don't want me to intervene"

Zhao looked between the two, offended, confused, and utterly enraged. He sighed, gathering himself into a decently put together stance, and with a flick of his raised hand, the soldiers surrounding Jee had stepped away. Zhao didn't meet anyone's eyes as he glared at the floor, clenched fists pressed against his side with obvious effort.

"Let's go, Lieutenant Jee." Prince Zuko said, turning on his heels and moving past a staunch Lieutenant Eiko.

With nothing else to do, Jee quickly followed as his comrade darted after the disappearing boy. General Iroh gave him an unreadable look before also going after Zuko. Jee swallowed, he had explaining to do later. Hopefully, he'd make it through without being turned into charcoal.

He was halfway out the door before he paused, partially looking over his shoulder to see a shaking, pissed off Zhao. There wasn't anything he could say without getting a fireball chucked at his head. What was there _to_ say?

That he was sorry it ended up like this? That he'd expected more from him? Those were empty, foolish lies that neither of them wanted to hear. Deep down he'd always known that Zhao would turn out like this, another noble born brat with a larger appetite for power than he could handle. And Jee… well, he'd cut his losses a long time ago. With his grip loosening on the frame, he pushed himself forward, ready to face whatever was awaiting him off the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this was a lot more dramatic in the rough draft believe it or not? But I was really unsure about the decisions I made so I forced my sister to read it and she seemed to like it??? So...
> 
> Also Zhao is fucking hard to write for some reason. I'm sorry I can't write a character _without_ making up a backstory (if one already isn't canon) so there's this whole made up life of his I have that I'll just... never use??? Idk but I like to think of him as watered down Azula that isn't as clever or powerful (it's also much easier to get to him), but is still enough of a threat that people have to be worried him. Also I'm just a bitch for the idea that the more minor characters just... incidentally knew each other at some point. Hence why Zhao and Jee used to be friends (also just for added drama, y'know?). Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed this, but trust me, the next one gets interesting.


	8. Ice Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Zhao being Zhao and a loud argument about fractions and dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this took so long but Season 2 of the Umbrella Academy came out, along with Tales of Arcadia so I was, uh, distracted. My Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks, so pop on over if you want! Please enjoy!

Zuko was perfectly fine. As fine as he could be considering he'd just walked on his Lieutenant about to get his face seared off. That was too close for comfort. And knowing Zhao, he'd done it because of Zuko's own injury, thinking it funny in some weird, sick way. The bastard. Zuko had always disliked him, even as a younger kid.

Zhao was an almost constant presence at the palace, considering who his family was. Nobles, and staunch supporters of the war, they'd been loyal to the Firelord for entire generations, and their fealty had paid off in terms of their position and wealth. They'd attend parties and meetings, making sure that their reputation was pristine and untouched. Zuko _hated_ them.

Sure, they acted nice enough, all careful smiles, and painstakingly polite words, but Spirits, was their kissing up was so _obvious_. Zhao wasn't any better. He'd treated him like a fragile, stupid brat in accordance with his standing. But now that it was within socially acceptable measures to disrespect him? The truer side of him would come out.

Stomping back down the ramp that had led to the large warship, the slams of shoes against metal echoing over the docks, Zuko took careful note of his erratic breathing. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Lieutenant Eiko's description had been vague if not slightly disconcerting, so for all he knew it could have been an asinine visit, or a possible murder attempt. And he wasn't far off, as what happened landed solidly within the spectrum he'd created.

Zuko was curious, he wanted to know what had led to that moment. But with the way his heart jumped to his ears and how the world seemed to sway, he'd have to postpone demanding answers. His head continued ringing until he finally made it to solid ground at the bottom of the ramp, under the bright midday sun, and he paused. The three people following him also slowed to a stop, their footsteps discordant and offbeat compared to his own.

Zuko straightened his posture, and took a deep breath, exhaling quietly through his nose. Whipping around on his heel, he shoved a finger at Lieutenant Jee and scowled.

"What in Agni's great name were you thinking?!" He yelled, startling the man so much that he actually looked surprised.

Blinking, Jee answered, "Uh… he showed up out of nowhere, sir."

"THEN WHY WOULD YOU GO BACK TO HIS SHIP?!" Zuko screeched, throwing his hands out.

Lieutenant Eiko and Iroh winced at the same time, shooting sympathetic looks to the man who received the brunt of the words.

Jee, who was dead on his feet and left empty by his most recent experience, sighed, "It was a stupid plan, I know that, sir-"

"Stupid doesn't even _begin_ to cover it!" Zuko interrupted, wildly throwing out gestures, "Utterly insane, more like! BECAUSE NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD TRUST THAT HOG-MONKEY OF A MAN!"

Iroh looked pained, "Prince Zuko, Zhao is still considered an honored member of the Fire Nation Navy-"

"Are you saying I should have let him burn my Lieutenant, uncle?!" Zuko snapped, turning towards the pot-bellied man with seething indignation.

Iroh frowned, "Of course not, Prince Zuko. You did the right thing getting Lieutenant Jee out of there." Zuko paused, slightly stunned by the praise, "However, I am suggesting we get a little further from the ship before someone overhears us."

Zuko remained silent, contemplating his uncle's suggestion, "Fine. Let's get back to the _Wani_. But," he turned to Jee, staring him down, "we're going to _talk_ , Lieutenant."

The last bit of will left Jee's spirit as he solemnly nodded, resigning his hearing to be definitively damaged by the end of the day. Huffing, Zuko turned back towards the port, marching back towards his ship with a renewed attention towards his duty as commander. Which was the smallest bit terrifying to everyone else.

* * *

"You see with _this_ deal, the prince is three-fourths the original." The vendor explained, gesturing to the discount parchment on sale.

"Mm-hmm." Yuuto muttered, stroking his chin, "Can I have a minute to discuss with my partner?"

"Of course, sir." The vendor winked with a flourish, pulling away to help someone on the opposite side of the stall.

Yuuto stared quizzically, raising an eyebrow. Shrugging it off, he turned to a slightly bored Daitan, who shook off her haze to try and pay attention.

Leaning in, he whispered, "Daitan… what does three-fourths mean?"

Her face screwed up in concentration, "Uh… it's a fraction? I think?"

"Fractions…" He muttered, trailing off. A bolt of realization struck and he snapped his fingers, "That's math!"

Daitan shrugged, "I guess. I can add, subtract and multiply pretty good. My division skills are, uh… not quite up to par."

He stared with wide eyes, "You can multiply?"

"Oh, Agni. I thought _I_ was bad." Daitan stopped her face into her palm, dragging it over her face, "Well, after we send your stupid letters, I'm gonna find someone who knows math so we're not completely _fucked_."

"What?" Yuuto paused, cocking his head to the side like a lost cat, "Why can't you just teach me?"

"Because I don't know fractions either, Yuuto!" Daitan tossed her hands in the air, yelling for all the world to hear, "We _both_ need help!"

He looked lost, "Okay… well, do you know anyone who went to school or anything?"

"Ugh!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her other hand in the air next to her head, a tic to help her think, "Uh… Minato!" Daitan looked to Yuuto with a deadly grin, "That little shit went to a fancy academy and everything when he was a kid!"

Yuuto recoiled, "Private Minato? Really? He's not even sixteen!"

Daitan blinked, "He didn't tell you that."

"I'm not stupid, I just can't multiply!" He retorted, "Besides, there's no way he's legal. He looks like Prince Zuko for Agni's sake."

Daitan scoffed, "Okay, I'll give you that. Just finish buying your parchment so we can send those letters, okay?"

"I _would_ but I still don't know what three-fourths means!" His harsh whispers traveled quickly to her ears.

"Oh." Daitan said, "Right."

"So?" Yuuto anxiously awaited her answer, "Can you tell me?"

"Uh… okay, well, I can't remember right now." She admitted as Yuuto groaned, "But! We can figure this out, I know we can."

"The point of the last minute was that we apparently know _nothing_ about basic math!" He hissed.

"A point we'll get back to later," She brushed off his concerns, much to his sputtering chagrin, "but let's just get this over with, alright?"

"Fine!" He agreed, screwing his eyes shut as he hoped he hadn't made a mistake, "What's your best guess?"

Smiling widely, in her signature slightly terrifying way, Daitan tapped her chin, "So hear me out, three-fourths has four in it, right? So _maybe_ it means that it's four times the price, and the three means and it's three _plus_ four times the price!"

Yuuto gave her a look, "Are you sure?"

Daitan nodded with vigor, "Absolutely."

"And four times means…?" He gestured vaguely.

"So take the original price and add it with itself, and do that two more times." Daitan explained.

Sighing, Yuuto trudged back to the counter, shooting her a questioning glare as he waited to be served. Enthusiastically giving him two thumbs up, Daitan was aware it looked odd, but it felt necessary at that moment.

"So have you decided?" The vendor asked, popping up out of nowhere and catching Yuuto off guard.

"Uh, yeah." He mumbled, tense, "I'll take a bundle."

"Alrighty! A good deal if I say so myself!" The vendor cheered, snatching a box from behind the stand and placing it on the wooden panel between them.

Smiling in a way that seemed to stretch beyond normal human capabilities, the man wrapped in Earth Kingdom garb was unbothered by the customer before him, in full on Fire Nation armor, except the helmet was nowhere to be found. Yuuto considered being suspicious of how well his presence was being handled, but he had too much to do.

"Considering the deal, the price will come out to-" The vendor said, tying up several rolls of parchment with simple ribbons.

"Um, can I just pay the normal price instead? Please?" Yuuto asked, already pulling out his coins.

The vendor looked startled, his inhumanly friendly smile dropping briefly, "Uh… are you sure about that, sir?"

Yuuto agreed, "Absolutely."

The vendor shrugged, "Alright, if you insist, sir."

"Thank you." Yuuto said, relieved as he took out several silver coins and dropped them on the counter, grabbing the bundles of parchment.

"Sir…" The vendor said, stopping Yuuto as he moved to leave.

"Yes?" Yuuto curiously replied, purchase already tucked against his side.

"If I may ask, what exactly is your mission?" The vendor whispered, careful to keep his voice low.

Yuuto froze, "Oh, uh, that's - that's classified, sir."

The vendor raised an eyebrow, "I just ask, because, well, the last Fire Nation ships that came through here were the Southern Raiders. And that's been a few years, and almost no one has gone to the South Pole since then."

Yuuto looked at the ground, "We're not going to the South Pole if that's what you mean."

The vendor let out a breath, "Good, because let me tell you, those Southern Raiders had a story or two to tell when they came back."

Yuuto glanced up, "What do you mean? I thought their last mission was a resounding success?"

"Not about the mission, no." The vendor waved it off, shaking his head, "About the journey there."

Yuuto gulped. Even though they weren't heading for the South Pole specifically, they were still using old routes that were on their naval map. More than likely, the same ones that the Southern Raiders had traveled on.

"What happened?" He questioned.

"Well, I don't wanna worry you, especially since you're not going to the South Pole." The vendor pulled back, off to go talk to another customer.

"Wait!" Yuuto said, raising his hand to stop the man. The vendor turned, and waited. "We're not going to the South Pole specifically, but our route swings near it. So, can you tell me what happened?"

The vendor considered his words, and came closer, leaning over the counter, "Now this isn't a thing I tell to most folk, they're a bit… jumpy when it comes to Spirits."

Yuuto hid an almost automatic flinch. If the Spirits were angry… there wasn't much that could be done.

"I guess you're one of the superstitious ones." The man eyed him with intrigue, "Are you really sure you want to hear?"

Yuuto's expression soured.

"Okay, okay." He sighed, caving in, "The Spirits have been angry for a long time, since, well, since the Avatar disappeared. And they're supposed to be the bridge between humanity and the Spirit World, and without one, it's harder to figure out what certain Spirits want in terms of offerings or leaving certain areas alone."

Yuuto shifted, "I… didn't know that."

The man shrugged, "A lot of Fire Nation people don't. But without a mediator, the bolder, more aggressive Spirits become a bigger problem. It's been getting worse the past few decades, so everything's more fragile, I guess."

"What does this have to do with the sailing routes?" Yuuto said, pressing the issue.

The vendor shook his head, "It has _everything_ to do with it. The South Pole used to rival it's sister tribe, you know? But over the years it's… fallen apart, and the raids didn't help with that."

Yuuto stiffened, "The waterbenders were dangerous! And it's possible the Avatar was reborn among them, the raids were necessary."

The vendor shook his head, "Benders are more in tune with the Spirit World than the rest of us. Doesn't matter what reasons your nation had, the spiritual center of the South Pole used to be there and now it's _gone_ because a waterbender hasn't been born in quite some time. The balance was majorly upset by that."

Yuuto didn't meet his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut, and remained attentive.

"So the Water Spirits that used to be nothing more than glimpses on a cold, quiet night? They're _angry_ , and they're willing to go after anything that moves in their domain, other than the Water Tribe." The vendor sighed, looking at Yuuto, "Especially Fire Nation ships. They'll drown you, if you're lucky."

Yuuto gulped, "And if I'm not?"

"Then you better pray that you're on excellent terms with Agni, because only a major deity could possibly save you." He grimly said, looking on with pity, "Some of them won't hurt kids, and you look young…"

"But not young enough." Yuuto finished, looking forlornly at the ground.

The vendor sighed, forgoing any sort of professional veneer he'd kept up, "Listen, kid, whoever your commander is, ask him to go a different way. It's best you avoid the south altogether, no one goes out there, not even the merchant ships."

"But… aren't there islands out there?" Yuuto asked, looking up, "Earth Kingdom islands?"

"Yeah, but… nobody's traded with them in years." The vendor admitted, "They've always been a strong bunch, Kyoshi Island especially. If they haven't figured out how to sustain themselves by now…"

Despite the odd twinge in his gut, Yuuto nodded, "Okay, that makes sense."

"I hope that answers all your questions." The vendor pushed himself off the counter, waving Yuuto off, "Have fun with your girlfriend."

"Thanks. I will." Yuuto answered as he started to walk off, before pausing and whipping around, "Girlfriend?!"

The vendor was already out of earshot by the time he shrieked the word, catching the attention of everyone within a thirty-foot radius. Still, Yuuto remained, utterly baffled and vaguely insulted. Daitan came bounding up, hands on hips, and an annoyed expression planted over her features.

"What the fuck are you screaming about?" She said, unamused.

Yuuto was scandalized as he pointed back to the stall he had just come from, "He thought we were _dating_."

"Oh." Daitan shrugged, "That'll happen sometimes."

Yuuto was entirely distressed, "What?"

"Don't you know?" She said, shooting him a smug look, "If a guy and girl hang out for more than two seconds then they're obviously dating."

He squeaked, " _What_?"

"Don't look like that!" Daitan lightly scuffed his shoulder with the back of her hand, "You should be happy people even think you're in the same league as me."

Yuuto's face had gone red as everything in his mind broke down, "I hate this. I hate this so much."

"You get used to it." Daitan sighed, "Eventually."

"I wouldn't date _you_." He insisted, "That just… the thought… _ugh_."

She narrowed her eyes, "If I was attracted to guys I think I'd be much more offended. So I won't kill you for that comment."

"Agni, I said you reminded me of my sister! It'd be really fucked if I liked you!" Yuuto defended.

"Because I am such a caring, awesome person with a wonderful personality, I understand that." She said, "Besides, I could definitely do better."

It was Yuuto's turn to be indignant, "Oh? Really? That's what you're gonna say?"

"Don't give me that! It's utter bullshit coming from you." She poked him in the chest, hard.

"Is it, Daitan?" He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow, "Is it?"

"You're so dramatic-" Daitan rolled her eyes.

" _I'm_ dramatic?" Yuuto hissed, "Who can't go into Kommodo-Rhino pens because the handler trained them to attack that person on sight?"

"Well, if you ask me, Leiko was the one being dramatic then-" Daitan retorted, getting louder.

"The fact that it even happened is completely batshit! Do you know how hard it is to train one adult Kommodo-Rhino, much less five? How did you even manage to piss her off that much?!" Yuuto said, throwing his hands up.

"I just said we needed more sausage!" Daitan yelled back, "How was I supposed to know she took it the wrong way?! I wasn't threatening her stupid animals!"

"You are a complete disaster, you know that?" Yuuto hissed, " _How_ you even function as a person completely escapes me!"

"Then what does it say about you that I'm probably your closest friend!" Daitan fumed, stamping the ground.

"I don't know! Nothing good!" Yuuto agreed, despite the exasperation.

"Damn right-" Daitan continued, pushing her finger closer to his face.

"Oh, Spirits, can you two shut the fuck up?!" A voice interrupted.

They both whipped their heads towards the source, threats and harsh words already on their tongues, before they caught sight of who had said it. Standing in front of them was an exasperated figure in a modified military uniform with shaggy bangs clipped back in a way that completely disregarded hair regulation.

"Isao." Daitan acknowledged, "Nice seeing you."

The Hawker turned to stare at her, "I can't say the same."

"Dick." Daitan muttered, standing up straight and stretching her arms behind her.

"Hi." Yuuto awkwardly waved, flushed from embarrassment.

"Hello." Isao rolled his eyes, "In case you didn't realize it, half the market can hear you screaming at each other."

"We weren't screaming at each other." Yuuto protested, crossing his arms.

Isao gave him a look, "You were."

"Ahh… we were." Daitan said, wincing, much to Yuuto's chagrin.

He huffed and didn't meet her eyes, "Well, it wasn't my fault."

"It was absolutely your fault!" She accused, turning to him.

Yuuto opened his mouth to reply with some half-thought out statement before Isao put up his hand.

"I'm stopping this right now." He said, glaring at both of them, "I get enough fighting on the boat, I don't need it here."

"Aww, you really do care." Daitan said, clasped hands pressed to her cheek as she exaggeratedly fluttered her lashes.

Isao took a step back, "I hate it when you do that."

She grinned ferociously, like a predator that had cleverly trapped its prey, "Why else would I do it so often?"

Isao rolled his eyes, "I have shit to do, so I'll leave you two idiots to it. Bye."

"Well, judging by the bag of military scrolls tucked under your arm, I'd say you've already done everything you need to do." Daitan said, cocking her head to the side, "So it would really just be best if we stuck with each other until we have to go back to the _Wani_ , right?"

Yuuto tugged on her exposed sleeve, whispering, "Hey! I thought we were going to-"

She pushed his hand off, quietly muttering, "Shh! I promise we'll get to it, I just wanna fuck with him."

"Fine…" Yuuto relented, stepping back.

Isao stood still, frozen with wide eyes and his shoulders raised almost to his ears, "I… I think I'd rather die, thank you."

Daitan snickered, "Rude, but fair. Oh, we have fun, don't we?"

"I think you and I have very different definitions of fun." Isao said, backing away, "I'm leaving now."

True to his word, he began walking away, speeding up considerably with each passing second. Daitan waved goodbye, never dropping her careful, mocking smile. It wasn't until Isao had rounded a corner, officially leaving their sight, that she turned to Yuuto with a more genuine grin.

"Ah, that was great." She nodded her head, shifting slightly, "One of these days, he's gonna admit we're friends."

Yuuto raised an eyebrow, "Good luck with that."

"Don't doubt it! I grow on people." She said confidently.

Yuuto nodded, "Like fungus."

Daitan smacked his shoulder.

"What?!" He sputtered, "It was an accurate metaphor!"

She rolled her eyes, "Do you think I like being called fungus?"

"Uhh…" Yuuto leaned in, squinting his eyes in concentration, "...no?"

She patted the top of his head, "Don't hurt yourself."

He brought his arm up and knocked her hand away, pouting slightly.

"Come on, kid." She slung her arm over his armored shoulders, "Lighten up! Now, do you wanna go send some letters, or not?"

He turned away, hiding the lines that eased off his visage, "Okay, that sounds good."

"Excellent!" Daitan cackled, pulling him forward, "Let's go!"

* * *

Helmsman Kosei wasn't a particularly nervous man, he served his nation with duty and respect… most of the time. He just had a bad habit of sneaking booze onto his person during shifts. It wasn't a big deal, until he was caught. Again. And again. And as someone whose job was steering a giant, steel monstrosity, it wasn't socially acceptable to have a few sips to take off the edge. Helmsman Kosei hadn't thought it was a big deal, until he was reassigned out of the blue.

On larger, busier ships, people barely knew each other, rarely bothering with conversation or keeping close track of certain supplies. On the _Wani_? It was completely different. Almost everyone knew his name, or sat with him in the mess hall, or asked about his personal life. It was annoying. Even one of the most esteemed generals in the Fire Nation regularly insisted that Kosei join him in a game of Pai Sho.

Kosei liked to think he had a decently strong and stubborn will. He politely refused all of them, making up some careless excuse. He had a job, and he'd do it well, he just wasn't obligated to be friends with the people he worked with.

Still, he grimaced as he sat in a chair, waiting for Lieutenant Jee to return to the bridge, Kosei had to admit he felt concerned. That Lieutenant Zhao seemed familiar, and he probably was, but the sight of him just didn't sit right. Something about that smug grin, paired with that look in his eye, made Kosei think he was hiding something. The man had an air of false superiority, probably high born and ambitious beyond his actual capabilities.

But if Lieutenant Zhao had enough power to hinder their efforts to resupply, that meant he did at least pose a threat. Lieutenant Eiko had insisted on being the one to inform their commanders on what had happened, telling him to keep an eye on their vessel. He was fine with that. Judging by the way General Iroh and Prince Zuko had stormed off with her, it was best he stayed as far away from their wrath as possible.

But being stuck in a silent, metal room did nothing to ease the certainty that had begun to build up. Kosei didn't like making rash, uninformed decisions, preferring a more solid, sturdy kind of attitude. That was something that had annoyed his wife, not that it mattered once they'd split. But there was something telling him to be wary, scared even. That hadn't happened before, but there was a first time for everything, he supposed.

A thunderous echo brought him to his senses, and he bolted straight up, tense and unyielding. It sounded like dozens of footsteps, all overlayed on top each other, bouncing off the walls and ceilings. A group of heavily-armed people, Kosei surmised. What had Jee done?

It was no surprise that they appeared down the hall, marching in ordered unison. They were well trained, Kosei noted. There were only ten or so, a mix of benders and non-benders, judging by the divide between open and plated helmets. Not a great sign.

"Halt." Kosei called out, stern, "This isn't your vessel, I have to ask you to leave."

Someone in full armor stepped forward, much taller than Kosei, "Lieutenant Zhao ordered a search of the ship, he suspected possible illegal activity."

"He doesn't have that authority." Kosei warned, holding his ground, "Go."

"He does when it comes to a banished traitor." They angrily replied, inching forward.

Kosei wasn't one to fall for intimidation, "Get off this ship, before I call for General Iroh."

"Move." They tried to push past him, ignoring the blatant threat.

Kosei wasn't a firebender, but his stance was still practiced, immovable. He didn't like attention, hence why he had chosen to be a Helmsman instead of a soldier. On any other ship, he would've let them past, told himself it was none of his business, and pretend none of it had ever happened. Maybe it was the fact that he'd probably never go home, or that this wasn't any normal vessel, but he just didn't have the restraint to sit back.

"You're going to get out of here on your own two legs, right now," Kosei said, low and threatening, "before I break them."

The apparent leader leaned forward, their breath hot on his face, despite the metal-carved imitation of a skull between them, " _Make_ me."

A dangerously overjoyed feeling overtook Kosei's thoughts, "Gladly."

Jutting his palm forward while his back leg moved back, solidly connected with the floor, his hand slammed into their arm. Bone crunched easily under his efforts, Kosei could feel it splintering and shattering in hundreds of different directions. Screams filled the room as the soldier dropped to the floor, wailing as they clutched a bent, broken thing that could barely be classified as an appendage.

"I warned you." Kosei said, as the urge to continue became almost unbearable.

The group was only frozen for a moment or two before rushing forward. Predictable, fighting until the last breath, the unofficial Fire Nation motto. Kosei didn't hesitate, just as stubborn, perhaps even moreso, than the people lunging for him. Even with flames dancing at their fingertips, and spears gripped by strong, practiced hands, Kosei was confident, assured in his victory. His only worry was what would happen after, but after a narrow dodge from a sharpened point that had been mere inches away from cutting into his throat, he banished all worried thoughts and simply _moved_.

* * *

Lieutenant Jee felt the uneasy feeling in his gut, the one that buzzed and squirmed its way into being noticed, intensify. They were walking up the plank back to the _Wani_ , and even under the heavy atmosphere of an enraged prince and his equally concerned uncle, something was off. He glanced at Lieutenant Eiko who returned his look with a small tilt, she also sensed it.

The screams coming from the bridge really solidified it for everyone. The group, only taking a second to tense and look at each other, bolted forward. In record time, they'd already made it halfway across the deck, despite the armor weighing each of them down. Jee glanced up at the towering bridge, diverting his attention for only a second, and almost faltered. He'd caught only a brief glimpse of armored figures moving, Zhao's guards. With guilt pressing on the edges of his consciousness, Jee pushed harder, running faster.

Through pounding feet and fettered breaths, they leaped through the doorway carved into the imposing metal tower of their ship, rushing through weaving halls and ill placed hatches. With pinched concentration, Prince Zuko headed the small pack of wildly concerned military personnel, with his uncle close behind him, barely breaking a sweat. General Iroh played the part of a lazy, retired old man, but rarely was it true.

The prince skidded to a stop in front of the entrance to the bridge, standing still, tensed and ready for a fight. Both lieutenants prepared themselves for the same, getting into their stances, inner flames surging forward and sparks flying off their palms. But much like their pubescent leader, they froze, unsure of how to react.

"Helmsman?" Prince Zuko rasped, quiet and cautious.

Slowly and without thinking, he began moving forward, through the hall. His head craning to look around the room, eyeing each and every writhing, crying figure on the ground. Jee swallowed hard. Even Lieutenant Eiko looked spooked, her careful, calm persona briefly slipping, even under the protection of her helmet. General Iroh had lost all of his usual humor, his face set into a neutral line, warily looking at the crew member who stood in the center of all that destruction, relatively unharmed.

"Prince Zuko!" Helmsman Kosei exclaimed, panicking as he put up his fist under a rigid hand that pointed upward, and bowed.

"What… happened here?" Zuko carefully asked, keeping his distance from the stocky, nervous figure.

"Uh, they… tried to illegally search the ship." Kosei shrugged, refusing to look at the soldier who was weakly crawling towards him, groaning as they dragged their mangled leg behind them.

"And… how did this happen?" Zuko continued, looking as close to horrified as his pride would allow.

Kosei answered with a blank face, "I used my training, sir."

A weak grab was made at Kosei's leg, and with an awkward smile, he stepped out of the way, and the soldier slumped, weakly moaning.

"You were trained… for this?" Zuko said, disbelief evident on his face.

"Yes, sir." Kosei answered, completely committing to the excuse.

"Helmsman Kosei," Jee started, stepping into the room with a mildly confused expression, "you realize this is an arrestable offense, you've assaulted and severely injured several soldiers."

Kosei didn't meet his eyes, "They started attacking first, sir."

Jee gestured at the writhing mass of people on the ground, "And this is an appropriate response?"

Kosei glanced at the ground, "I gave them fair warning."

Jee sighed and pinched his nose, "Zhao's not gonna accept that."

Prince Zuko crossed his arms and sneered at him, "I think that's the least of our problems concerning Zhao.

Jee stiffened and didn't meet the kid's knowing look, "Either way, there's still gonna be consequences for this."

"Right." Kosei nodded, shifting uncomfortably, "Consequences."

"He protected the ship!" Zuko hissed, turning to Jee, "I don't see the problem!"

Jee dragged his hand over his face, "The problem is that once Zhao finds out, he's not going to stop until Helmsman Kosei is arrested and punished. That's the kind of man he is."

"Then _why_ did you go with him?!" Zuko snapped, as everyone else made a conscious decision to remain silent, "He's awful and a petty suck-up, and if you knew that, then why were you there?"

Jee sighed, dropping his hand entirely, "We… used to know each other, back in the day. He said he could help us resupply, but his conditions weren't acceptable, and, well, you know he reacted when I told him that."

Zuko's intense scowl didn't ease up or get worse, "Lieutenant. Admitting you have a personal history with him doesn't help my suspicions."

"I'm just being honest, sir." Jee replied, tired beyond his years, "He offered me a deal and I turned it down."

Zuko turned away, arms crossed, taking a moment before saying, "Whatever. But if he thinks he can take _my_ Helmsman, he has another thing coming." Zuko turned to the group at large, sucking in a breath, "I've concluded through my own investigation that Helmsman Kosei used unnecessary force to attack fellow soldiers, and as his commander, I'll take responsibility for punishing him. Someone write that down and send it to Zhao, if he wants to contest my authority, he'll have to challenge me."

The idea of a thirteen-year-old, even their own spiteful prince, fighting in an Agni Kai seemed to weigh down the room, the general especially. Groans from the injured soldiers had petered out into labored breathing, their noise nothing but ambience to the crew.

"I'll get right on that, sir." Lieutenant Eiko said, shattering the heavy atmosphere, bowing awkwardly as she ran off.

"Good." Zuko said as he turned to Kosei, narrowing his eye, "As for you, Helmsman, starting now, you're officially banned from seconds in the mess hall, and Pai Sho. I hope you've learned your lesson."

Kosei hid a wide grin, "I sure have, sir."

Jee stared in what had to complete disbelief, because for the first time in years, he'd been surprised. Completely and utterly. Prince Zuko, by all accounts, was an ill-tempered brat who had an endless determination to run himself, and everyone around him, into the ground searching for a long gone figure. Mercy wasn't something that the boy seemed capable of. Well, Jee thought, perhaps that was harsh. The kid had just saved both him and another crew member from a dire fate, and not entirely out of his own self interest.

It would have been easy for the prince to give up both Jee and Kosei to Zhao, in fact, it would've benefited him most if he had. But he hadn't. He had been _angry_ for his crew member's sake, all gnashing teeth and sharpened claws when it came down to it. And it made no sense. Prince Zuko screamed and raged at the man, who silently loathed him in return. It was an easy, predictable cycle, and Jee respected that.

He certainly hadn't expected the prince's vicious attempt at protection, and he almost scoffed at the very idea. Jee was a grown adult, and Prince Zuko was _thirteen_ , the boy shouldn't have to worry about things like that. He was _child_. Something very softly clicked in Jee's head.

Oh, _Spirits_ , what was the Firelord _thinking_? Prince Zuko barely counted as a teenager, and here he was, in command of a war vessel, saving his subordinates from burn-happy, stuck up Lieutenants. Perhaps it had been easy to justify brushing off that fact because of Zuko's attitude and harsh words, but Jee couldn't bring himself to do that again. If Zhao's twisted words had any truth to them… then Prince Zuko was in danger, the kind that ended with assassins slipping away in the night and blood splattered on the floor.

How hadn't he seen it? Zuko was _frightened_ , and how could he not be? A kid, thrown out by his own father, on a desperate quest to gain his approval. The only familiar face was his uncle, and he'd been set back because of a major injury. Jee tried to imagine himself at that age, in his situation, and shuddered. He wouldn't have handled it much better.

With all that in mind, Jee no longer had the heart to keep contesting each of Zuko's orders.

"Sir," Jee began, catching the prince's attention, "what are your orders in regards to… this?"

He gestured broadly to the crumpled bodies encircling them, almost all passed out from pain.

Zuko, wary of Jee's sudden compliance, narrowed his eyes, "Find someone to drag them off the ship and leave them on the docks."

"That's all?" Jee couldn't help himself from asking.

Zuko turned, "You can leave a note on them or something. I just want them off my ship."

"I'll get on that, sir." Jee said, bowing as he'd been taught to do for royalty.

Zuko stared as if the lieutenant had sprouted a new head, and remained silent, waiting for him to leave. Jee obliged, and began leaving to try and find help, leaving the prince and the Helmsman alone.

Zuko's idea would buy them time, technically, Zhao couldn't dispute it if they left immediately. As long as they managed to stay ahead of him, it would be fine. Their luck would run out at some point, but… that was a thought for another time. Jee was far more curious about how a Helmsman who had trouble keeping his hands off stiff drinks managed to defeat a group of well-trained soldiers. It made no sense, but as Jee was coming to realize, that seemed to be the new normal.

* * *

"You're really mean to your cousin, you know that?" Yuuto said, dragging his feet on the unpaved ground.

"You've never met him, but trust me, he deserves it." Daitan shrugged in response.

Taking their time on a winding path back to their ship, they passed multitudes of colorful booths and the muted aromas of food, none of which was anything like Fire Nation cuisine. Much too bland and tasteless. Even with the cold southern air nipping at their faces, they couldn't be bothered.

Yuuto sighed, "You say that, but it just sounds like he looks up to you."

"Yeah! _That's_ what I mean." Daitan pointed at him, nodding, "It's really annoying."

"That's mean!"

"Shut up."

"You shut up." Yuuto grumbled.

"Whatever, we sent the letters, so let's just get back to the _Wani_." Daitan said, giving him side eye.

"I can't believe you made me pay for parchment AND postage!" He hissed, whipping his head towards her with an annoyed glare dancing in his eyes, "There's cheap and then there's crossing the line!"

"I told you, I already spent my salary!" Daitan groaned, shaking her head And huffing, "Not that it's any of your business."

" _How_ could you have spent it already?!" Yuuto crossed his arms, "I have a hard time believing that's even possible!"

"I told you," Daitan sighed, defensive, "I like buying-"

"Shiny things! I know." Yuuto muttered, "You've shown me those tacky earrings about a dozen times by now."

A finger was shoved in his face, "Take that back! They're wonderful!"

Yuuto rolled his eyes, "Keep thinking that."

"Like I don't see you eyeing those tourist knives." Daitan retorted, "A word of advice, just because they look pretty, doesn't mean they work.

"That is _so_ ominous, I hope you realize the amount of panic your words induce in my body is unhealthy." Yuuto said, scrunching his face into a sour expression.

"Fucking weirdo." She spit out with something akin to affection.

It took her a beat to notice that he'd stopped moving, it was only when she'd turned her head to take a light swing at his arm, that she paused. Daitan, wildly swinging her head around, had tensed up, when her gaze had landed on a transfixed Yuuto. He'd shuffled over to a more hidden stall, the open wonder on his face in direct opposition to the harsh reds of his uniform, curved and pointed to intimidate. Daitan wandered over, mentally preparing to drag him back to the ship herself.

"Hey, we gotta go!" She said, trying to figure out what had captivated his attention.

Tracking his line of sight, he was staring at a peculiar stall, swathed in blue and purple. Large curling script was painted on a sign leaning against the makeshift counter, advertising something called 'Ice Pops'. A bored older woman leaned back in her stool, tapping her index finger on her arm, waiting for a sale. The actual product was mounted in front of her, in the form of what looked like colorful icicles.

"Have you ever had one of those?" Yuuto asked, briefly glancing at Daitan.

"An ice pop?" She squinted, double checking she'd read it right, "No, but I'd guess it's something southern."

"They're two for five copper pieces." He said, pointing out the deal scrawled under the elegant sign.

"It's pretty cold." Daitan said, aware of the tips of her ears that had gone numb.

"Does it really matter if you could just bend?" Yuuto raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge his statement.

"Fine." Daitan caved, "I'll try one, but I'm just warning you now, don't expect much. The Earth Kingdom leaves much to be desired when it comes to food."

* * *

"I can't believe you made me go back for more." Yuuto groaned, holding two separate melting treats in each hand.

Daitan, with no hesitation, bit one of hers in half, swallowing it in seconds, "This shit is _good_. I can't just pass it up!"

He shuddered, "I don't know how you can stand that, apparently, my teeth are sensitive to ice."

"Perks of bending literal fire." Daitan shrugged with a smug grin playing at the edges of her mouth, almost playful.

"We're getting close now." Yuuto gestured to the towering steel that seemed to cover the ocean, now coming into view.

They'd made it to the end of the market, choosing to take a longer path back, one which spit them out on an unpopulated chunk of land next to the chilly, thrashing sea. It was open area of stone brickwork, only the stalls hadn't extended out to it, hindered by the freezing spray of the ocean. It wasn't a bad path to walk along. The connecting rock led into the wood of the docks, although almost hundreds of feet off from where the two were currently.

"Man, if only it wasn't so cold." Yuuto sighed, "I'd love to jump in and go swimming."

Daitan gave him a slightly horrified look, her quick witted words left stunted as her mouth hung open slightly.

"What?" He asked, stopping out of concern.

"Okay, you were _definitely_ in the army." Daitan snorted, shaking off her previous haze, "No sane sailor would say something like that."

"Hey! I sail." He protested, furrowing his brow.

"Maybe on some dinky fishing boat that doesn't go more than five miles offshore." She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, then, enlighten me on what was so weird about what I said!" He said, ending his sentence with a firm taste of his frozen dessert.

Daitan shook her head, "You know the ocean as a provider, a friend. You followed ancient traditions and set out in wooden boats, like good little humans are supposed to do." She glanced at the ground, "We're on giant steel behemoths, and every second we float, is another blasphemous moment that insults the Spirits. You haven't seen the ocean rage, angry and hungry, it'll swallow entire barges if it wants to."

Yuuto swallowed. He'd had mild storms, a few concerning tumbles overboard, but nothing as harrowing as Daitan described. Nothing that sounded so… _alive_.

"Fear begets respect." Daitan said, as if it were a phrase she'd clung to and memorized, "And you're a fool if you don't fear the water, especially as a firebender."

"Why?" Yuuto said, soft and quiet as Daitan's face darkened.

"Fire and water are opposites. Water is everywhere, which is why waterbenders are so dangerous, but our power comes from our very life force, our inner flame." She pressed against the center of her chest as she said it, "Firebenders run warm, sure, but we're dampened by cold, by water. It's dangerous for us to be in the navy, you know? If we fall overboard, well, if you get lucky and manage not to let your armor drag you to the dark depths of the sea, your inner flame can be… wounded, in a way." She paused, chewing on her bottom lip, "Regular water isn't that bad, ice water, however… well, the stories that come with it aren't fun. Sometimes your inner flame will wither down to the smallest embers, leaving you practically comatose until you either die, or get better, and even then, it's still... weakened."

Yuuto didn't meet her eyes, "I'm sorry, I… didn't know."

Her hardened expression briefly fell, "It isn't your fault. You like the ocean, but I have a complicated relationship with it. We swim, but, uh, usually it's not something we're happy about. But the one thing I'd really take away is that, above all else, you can't go overboard."

"Right." Yuuto swallowed, the edges of his vision darkening.

"And I mean that!" Daitan pointed at him, accusingly, "Even as a non-bender it's dangerous. Armor is armor, it's pounds of hardened leather and steel strapped to your body. Sinks fast."

"Yeah, got it. Ocean bad, ship good." He said, pressing forward, despite the ice pop that had melted down to his fingers.

Daitan scrunched up her face, "Sorry to bum you out, but that's just how it is."

"I know, I just…" Yuuto looked forlorn, "I miss doing the things I used to. Don't worry, I'm not stupid enough to swim in freezing water, not after what you and that vendor said."

"That guy said something about the ocean?" Daitan asked, "I thought you were just freaked out about the dating thing."

"It was probably a mix of both." Yuuto admitted, thinking back on it, "He just… mentioned some weird things."

"Weird how?" Daitan asked.

"He kept talking about Water Spirits, that we had to be careful because they were angry." Yuuto related, wincing, "Apparently it's bad enough that no one trades with the southern Earth Kingdom islands."

Daitan scoffed, "He was probably just trying to rattle you, we'd know if trouble was being caused Spirits. They're petty assholes, but they haven't done anything major in years."

"I don't know, he said the stories came from the Southern Raiders themselves." Yuuto remained unconvinced.

"You really think they'd tell some random dude about something like that instead of, I don't know, their superiors?" Daitan raised her hand up, waiting for a retort.

Yuuto pointedly refused to look at her, "If you say it like that…"

"See? I told you." Daitan muttered, tilting her head to the side, "Worry about the normal ocean stuff, not some random spirit story."

"Right." Yuuto rolled his eyes, "Now, are we gonna get back to the _Wani_ , or what?"

"Eager for another conversation with your admirer?" She teased, "I wonder what riveting thing Prince Zuko will do today, comment on the dinner menu, ask about the weather?"

He shoved her side as she wildly cackled, ignoring his huffed insults and quiet jabs.

"No, I got it!" She insisted much to Yuuto's chagrin as he started outpacing her, "He'll ask you about your personal life and then you'll pass out! Come on, don't walk away, you know I'm right!" 

* * *

"Did everybody get onboard, Lieutenant Jee?" Prince Zuko asked, staring at the horizon from his position on the deck.

"Yes, sir." Jee answered, standing at attention behind him, "It was a close call with Hawker Isao, but everybody is present and accounted for."

"Good." The boy seethed, somehow twisting the word so that it seemed to be a curse.

"Anything else, sir?" Jee asked, remain neutral.

Zuko turned his head, carefully examining him, "No, nothing, Lieutenant. As long as Zhao isn't following us, there should be no more disturbances tonight. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Jee bowed, stepping back.

With nothing but the rushing of waves and the ever present groan of the ship, Jee marched towards the door to the metal tower. He had some things to think over. And General Iroh to answer to. His nephew might not have pressed on the subject of Zhao's offer, but the older man most certainly would. It'd be an uncomfortable evening to say the least.

"Lieutenant." Prince Zuko called out.

Jee turned and raided a solitary eyebrow in question.

"Stop that humming." He gritted his teeth, "It's annoying."

Jee startled, "Sir… I'm not humming."

"Well, you must be, because I'm hearing it!" The boy hissed, staring him down. After a moment, he settled for turning back, "Whatever, just go."

Jee nodded and followed his orders, stepping inside the metal tower of the ship. He caught one last glimpse of the prince, a stark and lonely figure, staring off at far away icebergs and the changing sky. The boy ever so slightly craned his head, as if he were listening to something.

Jee, concerned but not wanting to overstep, elected to mention it in passing to the general, who'd most certainly get answers from the prince. Making his way to the bridge, he still couldn't help but think the sinking feeling in his gut was a warning. Of what? That he couldn't answer, but as he thought back to the treacherous waters that laid before them, Jee could do nothing to hide the involuntary shudder. The southern seas were always odd and off putting, but now? Something about the air made his hair stand on edge. Whatever was coming, Jee thought, wasn't going to be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Iroh, Jee and Eiko seeing a group of soldiers writhing in horrible pain around Kosei: Um... watcha got there?
> 
> Kosei, panicking: A smoothie
> 
> Seriously though, they're confused but they have bigger fish to fry. Also, as for Daitan and Yuuto not knowing math, it was a joke I made up since A) they never went to school and B) their respective families didn't really think it was important. And the military doesn't really have any particular standards when it comes to enlistment, I imagine, as long as you can firebend or pick up a weapon, you're basically set. I can't believe we're finally getting to one of the more exciting points I came up with! Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed this.


	9. Songs of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something cold and unforgiving is creeping in, and people are starting to feel it's effects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! My Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks, so hit me up if you want! Enjoy.

The chill that had invaded the ship was ever present, clinging to each heavy breath and movement, bone deep and cutting. A creeping thing that had cloaked everyone with a quieting madness, unafraid of the flames scattered throughout the vessel, thinking only to slowly suffocate each bit of warmth it could find. It was enough to set people on edge, tempers flared more often than not, a silent, unspoken fear gripping the crew. The southern sea was not kind to those who wielded flame, and not for unjust reasons.

Still, they were alone, a small, disorganized ship without the benefit of numbers or support. Closing in on the Southern Air Temple, the crew was determined to not acknowledge what everyone felt, that something was watching them. No one went out on the deck anymore, not unless they had to.

People began clustering together more often, moving in groups and staying in larger, more open spaces. The mess hall had become popular despite only serving food at its designated times. The only difference was that Head Cook Namiyo managed to purchase several pounds of coffee beans, something entirely unheard of as it only grew in the Earth Kingdom. It was a hit among the sleep-deprived and paranoid soldiers.

Of course, seeing how popular it had become, Namiyo took the opportunity and began charging people for every cup. Despite the initial uproar, he promised that the money would go towards further purchase of the drink, which everyone begrudgingly accepted. General Iroh was the only unhappy party in the arrangement, and was even seen sniffling when some of his more trusted soldiers were caught sipping at the dark, bitter sludge. This meant Prince Zuko adored it.

It was a puzzling sight at first, the short, vicious sprite of a prince sitting down and trying not to make faces at the admittedly awful taste. But he was consistent, grabbing a cup first thing in the morning, free at the insistence of a pale Namiyo. He always sat alone, on the outskirts of the nervous groups that carefully eyed him. But it only took a week for everyone to grow accustomed to it, not even blinking as the prince entered each day.

Except one man, whose breath always hitched at each glimpse of Prince Zuko, no matter the situation. Pikeman Yuuto had a deathly, inherited fear of royalty, something that wasn't going to change overnight.

Swallowing a lukewarm mouthful of coffee, feeling bits of crushed bean brush against his tongue, Yuuto stiffened as Prince Zuko came through the metal entrance, focused on the steaming cups being offered on the counter.

"One of these days you're gonna have to get over this fear." Daitan muttered, raising an eyebrow as she took an extended sip of her own cup.

"It is a little… weird, at this point." Minato chimed in from his spot next to Daitan.

"Don't you think so, Isao?" Daitan turned to the Hawker, who had chosen to sit on Yuuto's side, albeit a few feet down on the bench.

He levelled an annoyed glare at her unflinching face, "I'm not getting involved."

"You can't just sit with us and _not_ talk, there's rules you know!" She pointed at him, intense, "Order has to be maintained!"

Minato nodded with her, "You can't just upend the process like that."

"I'm only at this table because the other options are sitting with Sergeant Toma and his men," faces visibly soured at the name, "or lock myself in my room."

Minato grimaced, "Okay, fair, but you still have to participate, that's just how it is."

"You're all insufferable." Isao hissed, slamming his fist on the table.

"Don't include me in that!" Yuuto protested, rolling his shoulders back, "I'm fine with you not talking!"

"It still applies because of your incessant, unnecessary babbling about the prince!" Isao muttered angrily, dark eyes shining with fervor, "He's not going to roast you in your sleep!"

Daitan slammed her fist on the table, ignoring the jumps it incited, "HA! You just participated!"

Isao wrenched his head away, muttering, "Fuck!" under his breath.

"That's it! You're officially part of the group, can't back out now." Daitan grinned ferociously, leaning forward, "I win."

Yuuto leaned over to flick her unprotected forehead, "You can't win at friendship."

"Oh, I absolutely can!" She retorted smugly as she gestured to Yuuto, "Case in point."

"That doesn't count." Yuuto sighed, treasuring another sip of his poorly-made coffee.

"Fuck you, it absolutely does!" Daitan insisted, jostling Minato with her shoulder, "Tell him, Minato!"

His eyes were unfocused, distantly watching some unseen event. Daitan turned to him, confusion flickering across her features.

"Hey, Minato." She called, waving her hand in front of his face, "You're spacing out, dude."

He blinked, looking at her with wider eyes than usual, "Huh? What?"

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" Yuuto asked with pressed brows and pursed lips.

"Hmm, oh, yeah, yeah." Minato waved him off, shaking his head, "Sorry, just thought I heard something."

"What was it?" Daitan rolled her eyes, eyeing him as she carefully drank her coffee.

Minato scrunched up his face, concentrating, he muttered, "I don't know. It was just… like, humming, I guess?"

Daitan paused, wincing slightly as she carefully said, "That… sounds like an auditory hallucination, bud. Those happen when you don't get enough sleep-" 

"I've been sleeping!" He insisted, flushing as he looked up, "It's not the big of a deal, I promise!"

"It… kind of is." Yuuto said, "If you don't feel good, you could just go to Asa-"

"I told you! I'm fine." Minato crossed his arms, pulling away from the group, "I just thought I heard some weird song, it was probably just the pipes."

"If you say so…" Daitan sighed, still unsure.

"I _know_ so." Minato insisted.

"Don't your shifts start in, like, ten minutes?" Isao chimed in, cutting off Daitan before she could open her mouth.

"Duh, but that's not important." Daitan replied, annoyed by his reminder.

"It is if you want to stop getting on Lieutenant Jee's bad side." Yuuto said into his drink, gulping it down as she shot him a withering glare. 

"If he wants to find a problem with the way I do my job, then he's welcome to." She gestured widely, "What the hell is he gonna do? Demote me."

"He can." Isao informed her, shrugging.

She paused, staring, "Really? I thought he was just bluffing."

"What do you think acting Captain _means_?" Yuuto said, throwing his hand up.

"I thought it was like he handled the boring, awful shit, while the prince got all the power. I didn't know it came with actual perks!"

"Demoting people isn't a perk." Minato raised his eyebrow.

"It is to me." Daitan pointed to herself.

"Hence why you should not be given power over others." Isao said.

She sputtered, "That's totally- I mean, I'd never-"

Yuuto sagely nodded, "He's right. It'd be a nightmare, you'd be entirely uncontrollable and drunk with power."

Minato made a tiny sound of agreement.

"Traitors." She glared at them, pushing herself up, "I'm gonna go do my rounds."

Isao leaned over to nudge Yuuto with his elbow, muttering, "Oh, _now_ she wants to do her job."

Yuuto clamped his hand over his mouth before bubbling laughter could escape.

Daitan narrowed her eyes and Yuuto averted his gaze, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"You, uh, have fun!" He weakly cheered, giving her a shaky thumbs up.

Grumbling, she marched away, each thumping step punctuating another stunted word. Daitan continued all the way through the mess hall, past the prince and other groups that briefly stared, until she was out of view. Yuuto sighed.

"Bets on if she gets assigned another week of laundry?"

Minato tapped his chin, "No, it's probably gonna be upped to latrine duty."

Yuuto shuddered, "Thank Agni I haven't had that yet."

"Just wait." Isao drawled, "You will."

Yuuto frowned as Minato began lightly chuckling.

"Keep that up and your pay disappears." Yuuto threatened.

"I'm fine with that, a few silver pieces isn't much." Minato smugly replied, "But if you're really fine with losing my tutoring services…"

He looked away, "Brat."

"Yep!" Minato popped the word, smiling widely.

"You're all very… strange." Isao commented, studying the two of them.

"At this point…" Yuuto vaguely gestured to the metal walls enclosing them, "does it particularly matter?"

"No…" Isao trailed off, considering Yuuto's words, looking to the side, "No, I suppose it doesn't."

* * *

The water churned, cold and devoid of life, an empty void that would suck in anything it could find. He supposed there could've been creatures swimming just below the lines and cracks of the ice coated waves, but he knew there wasn't. The cold that rose from the ocean defied reason, one being that cold _didn't_ rise, and the other being that it felt like death hovering over each of them, waiting for its chance to slip between the boundaries of realms and steal away the warm breath that graced each of the crew.

Helmsman Kosei was freezing, yet he couldn't loosen his white-knuckled grip on the ship's wheel, baring and stretching his skin against the air, daring it to take what he had. He was never an outwardly superstitious man, but was reconsidering his stance on the idea with each passing second. Very briefly, he longed for the inner flame that Agni gifted his citizens, but the thought didn't give him comfort. Fire would only be so useful before it whittled down to weak embers, leaving him more vulnerable than before to whatever lurked beyond his mortal eyes. In the long run, it was best that he couldn't wield fire, after all, those who did were the most vulnerable to the ire of a frozen sea. 

Boilers were supposed to be pumping hot air throughout the vessel, and even as he uneasily eyed the vents that steamed with their inorganic breath, Kosei could feel no change. Hiding a shudder, he focused on the unending horizon, and the deeply unsettling blue that mocked them from below. There was nothing for miles, even with the sun plated by blank, grey clouds, he could see that.

"Are you sure it's this way, sir?" Kosei spoke, shattering the reverent atmosphere of the bridge.

"Hmm?" Lieutenant Jee muttered, shaken out of his own trance.

"Sir, are you sure it's this way for the Southern Air Temple?" Kosei repeated, uncomfortable with how loud his own voice seemed to echo back, as if he were alerting a predator to his location.

Jee frowned, his crossed arms growing tighter, "Yes, we've checked this route over and over. We should be there within a day or so."

"Right, sir." Kosei sighed to himself, a shiver rippling and playing at the base of his spine, sliding along each vertebrae with a dangerous and violating curiosity.

"Why? Did you see something?" Jee pushed himself away from the table he'd been standing over.

"No, sir." Kosei automatically answered, "I was… I don't know, maybe something felt off, but I'm sure it's nothing."

Jee paused, "As long as you're sure, Helmsman."

"I am, sir." Kosei assured hollowly, keeping a very close eye on the ever shifting terrain before him.

Shifting back to the table, Jee had fallen back into silence, along with the rest of the room. Kosei ignored the rumbling unease that careened its way through his mind and body, throwing everything around it into an endless freefall of worry. Watching an iceberg come up the side, one that towered and leaned over the insignificant warship, Kosei felt nothing change about the gaping hole inside, no ebbing of his anxiety that usually happened after a few good seconds.

Night would be worse, his blood slowed at the thought, Agni's presence would protect them no longer. Not that they were particularly lucky in that regard, if anything, Agni ignored them most of the time. But as long as his rays were seen, they had power, they could protect themselves. Under the moon, however, it was a different story.

It was taboo on the main islands to praise Spirits other than Agni, unfortunately, Kosei hadn't grown up on them. The colony he'd been raised in was old, older than the 'official' start of the war, when Sozin had briefly made a military campaign attempt before stopping and lying in wait for decades to come. Still, the Fire Nation had already conquered cities, and refused to let those efforts go to waste. The colony was not as large, nor as powerful, as Yu Dao, but it was still solidly, irrevocably, his home.

His grandfather had been the one to teach him to pray for the Spirits' mercy, to offer things up in small, homemade shrines, or in other ways to honor major deities. He burnt gifts in fire for Agni, found streams that connected to the ocean to sink offerings to honor La, and under pale moonlight, he left food for Tui on smooth rocks. There was another ritual his grandfather had done at the start of dusk, scattering crushed things to the wind, watching dust weave and cut through open air, all while muttering a silent condolence. Kosei had only asked about it once, and the look he'd received had been enough. The man had spent almost all of his time honoring Spirits, major or not, the constant fear of retribution weighing heavily on his old shoulders.

It came as a shock that such practices weren't common among other Fire Nation people when Kosei was younger, and as soon as he joined the military, he had stopped praying and meditating altogether. It wasn't acceptable, he reasoned with himself, asking a Spirit for guidance, other than Agni, was disrespectful. He had ignored the image of his grandfather's disappointed face that had popped up.

But now, even as years had passed, with Kosei even more distant and cynical than he'd been at seventeen, he clung to the faded remnants of memories he'd buried in the name of loyalty to his nation. The ocean roared all around him, almost protesting the insult of their ship even _being_ in the water. Maybe he could try the ritual again, for old times sake. Yeah, he feverishly reasoned, no other reason than good old nostalgia.

* * *

Minato was going crazy. He had to be. He was _hearing_ things after all. At first, he didn't want to be alone because of it, but now he realized that it didn't help, if the others found out… well, it certainly wouldn't be good.

The hissing of the pipes that were bolted to the ceiling only served to make him twitch, stopping in the middle of the hall to swivel his head around, as instinct took over and flame circled his fingertips.

There was a song on the wind, a gentle, wondrous caress of words that Minato longed to hear, but firmly denied. It had happened days ago on the deck, drawing him closer to the edge of the ship, until he stared down at the sea churning under tons of rushing metal. It would've been so easy to fall at that moment, because it would catch him, and hold him, and _love_ him, and all he had to do was let gravity take over.

Until he saw something _move_ and stumbled back, gasping as he hastily made his way back into the smothering safety of the vessel, steadfastly refusing to go out again. Even Lieutenant Jee couldn't reprimand him for that, with the way he briefly hesitated at the doorway. No one, except the prince at times, would go out there. No matter the meandering routes they had to take, or the inconveniences they faced, no one on the _Wani_ went out on the deck.

But it kept finding him. Him, _specifically_. Because as far as he knew, no one else could hear that alluring lullaby whispering in his ear, making his heart ache for a home that didn't exist anymore. Minato wrenched his thoughts away from that raw, fresh wound and forced himself down the hall, each scrape against metal and humming of the lights another spike in his pulse.

He had a job to do, Minato reminded himself, he had to patrol the halls. A placebo for actual work, but still an order he had to obey. Marching with rushed fervor, he forced himself not to look back as he moved on, turning down halls as _something_ gained on him, breathing down his neck.

Walls closed in as he surged forward, speeding up as his breath quickened and heavied under his effort. He scrambled around another corner, pushing off the metal side and praying for an open door, or another person, anything at that point.

Slipping, his gaze fell back onto a stretched inhuman shadow, a lithe, dark figure smeared against the solid floor, lunging for him. A shriek escaped his lips.

Clawing at the ground as he stumbled, he pushed forth, his foot traitorously catching on the floor as he did. His knee slammed as a bright, shooting pain briefly immobilized his leg. Gasping, he pushed past the hurt and moved forward.

It brushed at the nape of his neck, ruffling his hair with an ice cold touch, a bare sensation sliding across his skin. He pulled away, breaking into a full sprint, shuddering as his arms pumped.

His feet slammed over and over, sending solid bolts of pain to his knees. Sweat beaded at his brow, rolling as he slid around another corner, arms wildly attempting to find balance. Clenching his eyes shut so he wouldn't see it again, whatever _it_ was, he grappled with another wall, hooking his fingers around a pipe and using the momentum to fling himself onward.

Right into another person. A taller, older, _stronger_ person. As the danger of falling down presented itself, Minato's hands grabbed their upper arms, clinging to them tightly. Pulling closer with all the strength he had, his breath hitched, freezing in his throat. He stilled, shaking, head pressed tightly against a cold, solid chestplate. Fear gripped his heart, a smothered sob rattling in his chest.

He wasn't sure if it was still behind him or not, ready to rip him away. But at his core he was _scared_ , and he needed that moment. Embarrassment seemed like a far off concern, so outside of his current experience that it barely registered as possibility. Wetness spiked at the back of his eyes, threatening an escape.

"Minato?" A voice softly whispered, a hand coming down to pat his head, unsure and full of hesitation.

Letting himself look up, a wave of relief flooded him, and there was nothing holding back the frantic, stressed tears leaking from his eyes.

"Hey, Daitan." He mumbled through a mouthful of chattering teeth, smiling weakly, a thin veneer of calm.

She opened her mouth to respond, an odd, worried look haunting her sharp, playful features. But the world slipped away and darkness clouded his vision. Exhaling, he saw the ground rushing up to meet him, and only hoped he'd be out before he could feel the impact.

* * *

Asa pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. Be calm, he told himself, be rational. He had a job to do and he'd do it well. So what if the younger crew was going to be the death of him? That just meant his warnings hadn't been taken seriously, perhaps he needed to up his game…

"Is he gonna be okay?" One headache in particular spoke up, her messy braid whipping with her head as her attention bounced.

Asa gritted his teeth, "I can't say. There's no wound, no head trauma, and his breathing is shallow, but steady."

"Still, you have a hunch, right?" Pikeman Yuuto asked, much quieter than his anxious counterpart.

Minato, unconscious and shivering under the layers of blankets that had been generously heaped upon him, shifted slightly, eyes visibly moving under their lids. Most of his armor had been hastily removed, only leaving the under layer of gray trousers and a matching tunic on him. It was almost comical, how small he looked in that cot. How could anyone expect him to harden his youthful gaze and fight to the death?

"It's possible it was stress." Asa sighed, defeated, "You said he was running away from something, that he looked scared. Do you know if Private Minato was under any particular duress? Has he seemed… off in the past few days?"

Seaman Daitan didn't meet his eyes, "I don't know, maybe? He didn't want to go out on deck a few days ago, but no one really does. He's been a little distracted, but it didn't really seem like anything big."

Pikeman Yuuto winced, "Minato said something about hearing humming this morning. But he thought it was the pipes."

"Maybe he just didn't get enough sleep?" Seaman Daitan shrugged, almost frantically, "Teenagers are like that, you know."

Yuuto feebly tilted his head, "I… I don't think so. Minato is pretty… put together, and he has his own room, and he didn't have firewatch yesterday."

Asa considered it all, tapping his forearm in a steady rhythm, "I don't think it's exhaustion. If it was, the symptoms would be more visible."

"Crying and freaking out is plenty visible." Daitan sullenly muttered under her breath.

Asa shook his head, "That's not what I meant. Exhaustion is more than emotional instability, it's headaches, paranoia, changes in weight - it's a long, drawn out process, one that would've been cause for concern if it were true."

He tried not to think about the symptoms that matched up too closely with the youngest aboard. The prince wasn't as slick as he believed himself to be.

"Well… fuck!" Daitan spit out, stomping as she ran a frustrated hand through unkempt chunks of hair that stuck out of her braid, "I don't have any other ideas, alright?!"

"Whoa, Daitan…" Yuuto said, an overtly concerned look fleeting on his face as he took a step toward her, hands raised in a half reach her for shoulders.

"It was just…!" She forced her eyes shut, openly baring her teeth, "It was… worrying, alright? He was… _scared_ , the kind of scared that you see when someone thinks they're gonna take the big plunge."

Yuuto swallowed hard, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"He's not in any immediate danger." Asa softly said, coming up with something safe and close to the missing truth to comfort her with, "You did good getting him here so fast, better than most other people I've had the opportunity to meet."

"You sure know how to make a girl blush." She tried for a snarky retort, somehow letting it get strangled in her throat.

Asa comically wrinkled his nose, "Sure."

Yuuto scoffed, light and humorous, "You broke her."

Her right fist connected with the meat of his arm, "Fucking dick!"

Yuuto rubbed the spot sorely, "Ow! Do you really think that's the best use of your time!?"

Daitan gave a wide, unsteady grin, "Oh, absolutely."

He was about to retort with some stupid, immature line that would've sent gales of laughter ringing in the air with furious half-protests following in their wake. The clunky opening of old metal hinges cut Yuuto off.

They all turned, tense and hardened by dozens of battles, nervous energy surging, and paused it's only a familiar face peeking through. Hawker Isao stepped into view, an eyebrow raised in hidden curiosity.

"Oh, I didn't know you were-" Asa stopped, narrowing his eyes, "What… is _that_?"

The hawk sitting comfortably on Isao's shoulder issued an indignant squawk.

"Oh, uh, this is… Flamey." Isao gestured weakly, trying his best to maintain a composed face, "He wouldn't stop being a pest unless I took him with me."

It was a beat before Daitan wildly guffawed, sucking in a breath as she half-collapsed. Yuuto looked close to joining her.

Isao apparently took offense at that.

"Stop! It's not funny!" He insisted as the hawk began picking at his hair, "Damn it, Flamey, not helping!"

"Oh, oh _Agni-_ " Daitan gulped in air, shaking with wild glee as her face grew red and shiny.

"Sh-shush!" Yuuto attempted a serious face, immediately cracking moments after.

"You two-" Isao hissed, glaring harshly as Flamey nuzzled the side of his face.

Asa expertly covered his shaking mouth with a subtle movement of his hand, deftly turning away so as to keep what little composure he had. He was a grown man with a serious job, he had to keep his cool. Still… fighting off a smile was hard when all of wanted to do was manifest.

"Mmm?"

Everyone turned to the source of the groggy murmur, a rolling mess of bedhead that stared with squirming confusion.

"What are we laughing at?" Minato croaked.

There was a bloated stiff pause as the group glanced at each other, furtive looks hidden by splayed concern, all woven and tied together with strands of relief.

"Isao." Daitan grinned, leaning in and loudly whispering, "He looks really stupid right now."

Glaring at her, the Hawker took to crossing his arms and huffily looking away.

Minato snorted, amused, "That's not new."

She cackled madly, "Oh, my dear boy, I believe you're favorite person."

Yuuto was slightly put out.

"Good." Minato muttered, pushing himself up and yawning, "Why am I here again?"

At that, her jubilant smile fell, "Ah, do you… not remember?"

He thought for a visible moment, and then Minato's face was ashen.

"Oh." He softly muttered, gripping the edges of the cot, "Right."

"Minato," Asa started, his voice gentle and calm, not enough to be patronizing, but still aware of his patient's young age, "can you tell me what happened?"

He swallowed, "It's… I just… I thought something was…" he meekly glanced up, "chasing me."

There's a moderately stunned silence at that, and everyone is toeing a thin line of acknowledging the inherent absurdity of his claim, and sparing a child from being uselessly berated. Is there really a middle ground there?

"Ah." Asa said, nodding with a neutral expression, "Are there any more details you can give me?"

Minato glowered, glancing around at the three other semi-adults in the room, "Um…"

"Oh, fuck. Right." Daitan realized, gesturing from her forehead to his with an extended point, "I got you."

Minato rolled his eyes, but didn't scorn or scoff at her offer. That was as grateful as a teenager tended to get, Asa bemused.

Pulling on her compatriots free arms, Daitan harshly dragged them out of the room, much to Isao's loud protests of having an important message. Asa will deal with that later. Maybe.

When the bickering between the three of them was buffered a metal wall locked into place, Asa couldn't help but shake his head, a mirthful feeling dancing in his chest for the first time in, well, decades. He was pushing middle-aged, and doing well judging by the lack of grey that has yet to come, but he still can't help feeling… old. Maybe that was just the profession.

"Okay, Minato," Asa started again, as the boy relaxed slightly, "let's start from the beginning…"

* * *

" _I'm_ just saying that if someone has an important message from the Captain-"

" _Acting_ Captain."

"-then maybe you shouldn't forcefully kick him out of a room!"

Yuuto pinched his nose, "You two are insufferable."

"Who, me?" Daitan winked, "I'm an absolute delight!"

"Your delusions are genuinely concerning." Isao seethed, glaring, "I have _one_ useful job on this ship and I'd appreciate it if you didn't try and fuck it up-"

"Playing messenger isn't what I'd call useful!" Daitan retorted.

"A glorified security guard isn't one to talk!" He pushed, daring her to go further.

"Listen here you motherfucker-" Daitan leaned in, concentration evident as she slammed a finger into Isao's chest as Flamey glared at her.

"AHEM." A voice coughed, the slightest bits of disdain seeping off.

They turned, tired and frayed with worry, and paused, frozen with entirely an entirely new, gripping fear. A single figure, short and thus less room for his boundless anger and spite, stood down the hall. A royal visage, obvious with his perfected posture and uniform, just with the bonus of a major burn and a near permanent scowl.

Hoping for the best, which tended to be screaming until their ears rung with words twisted and sharpened until an almost palpable point, they all sharply bowed, breath quickening to hide the pounding of their hearts. Yuuto shook, swallowing as his eyelids twitched involuntarily. Daitan noticed, of course, but kept her body still.

"Prince Zuko." She acknowledged, standing up, keeping everything about her disposition as level and calm as possible.

"Seaman Daitan." He sparingly replied, looking past her.

That was a titch annoying.

"Pikeman Yuuto."

Zuko's eyes lingered for the briefest of moments, a slight - almost human - hesitation. Yuuto did his best to attempt a nod. It wasn't great.

"Hawker Isao." Zuko genuinely paused, his eyes having almost skipped over the large bird stationed on Isao's tense shoulder.

"P-Prince Zuko." He muttered, staring at the floor.

Daitan wanted to strangle him. Yuuto seeing this wasn't going to help get him over that stupid idea that princey was going to gut him in his sleep. In fact, the kid seemed almost _entranced_ by the stupid hawk. (That's unfair, she had to remind herself, the hawk doesn't deserve the curse of having to be associated with her kind-of-definitely-maybe-a-friend Isao)

"Is…" Zuko trailed off, looking more lost than Daitan had ever really seen, "Is that a _hawk_ you have there?"

Isao almost choked on his tongue judging by how wide his eyes got. For a sick moment, Daitan wondered if they were going to roll out of his head.

"Umm, y-yes, sir." He said, letting his eyes trail up.

"Oh." Zuko replied, the harsh lines dropping from his face, and an almost innocent wonder showing through.

Daitan wondered if she lost her mind, hallucinations seemed to be the common theme that day.

Zuko visibly snapped back to reality, tearing his mesmerized (and curious) gaze from Flamey.

"I heard that a member of the crew was found unconscious." He relayed, all cutthroat and business in a way that just fits wrong, "I need to know the circumstances."

Daitan, shooting quick glances to the two terrified figures next to her, rolled her eyes. The responsibility fell to her, as usual.

"What questions do you have," it took a beat before she added, "sir?"

Zuko frowned, eyeing her carefully. Daitan wasn't sure if she could ever get used to acting like a thirteen-year-old was her commander. Not that he wasn't a vicious, angry little thing, no, that bit Daitan almost enjoyed. Just… the way he expected everyone to take it. Daitan, for all her realized faults, knew and accepted that the challenge and resistance she received to her antics were to be expected. Zuko did not.

"What do you know?" He quipped, narrowing the one eye not covered by a thick layer of clean cloth.

Daitan tilted her head, "Private Minato got spooked and lost consciousness. That's about it, sir."

Zuko scrunched up his face in a way that was almost endearing ( _what_ in the world was that about?).

"I see." He said, a growl rumbling underneath his voice, "Thanks for nothing!"

Daitan suppressed the heavy urge to shout back, and replied, "You got it, sir."

"Useless!" The kid hissed behind clenched teeth, "As usual!"

Yuuto's eyes had gone glassy, and almost entirely lifeless. Not great.

Zuko took notice, control faltering for the smallest of moments. Daitan curiously logged it away, keen to examine it later. The prince wanted to be respected in the only way he knew how to get it, a thought that made her do a mental eye roll. But he didn't want to scare a certain member of the crew, out of what? Lingering guilt?

"Right." Prince Zuko muttered, still sharp but much quieter than before, "Um, I'm… disappointed. Very displeased with your… lacking actions."

Daitan snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth at the same time, trying desperately not to burst into laughter. Prince Zuko did not look pleased.

Yuuto glanced back at her, eyes wide with concern and silent reprimands.

"Something funny, Seaman?" Zuko snarled, marching over.

With the utterly serious look on his face, it really wasn't her fault when she broke out into furious giggles. Clutching her stomach and waving a single finger at the prince, in a way that would get anyone else arrested, she let out the shrieks of tremendous laughter she'd been holding in.

"Oh, _Spirits_ -" She swore, wiping a tear from the rim of her eye.

"It's not funny!" Zuko snapped, stomping his foot on the ground.

The edge of Isao's mouth twitched.

"It's-it's a little funny, sir." She answered, squeezing her pointer finger and thumb close together, the smallest of gaps left between the pads of her skin.

Yuuto was about to have a full-blown aneurysm when Zuko simply glared at her, and sighed, turned and began pounding on Asa's door.

It only took a good minute of constant slamming before the door was wrenched open, and Asa glared at the intruder.

"I told you to-" He paused, if only because at his height, there's no visible head. His eyes panned down. "Prince Zuko. Hello."

"Morning, Physician." Zuko greeted, "What happened?"

Asa sighed, "You know I can't disclose personal information-"

"I'm your commander!" Zuko interrupted, "That doesn't apply!"

"It's a law, sir-"

"I _am_ the law!"

Asa crossed his arms, "Not officially."

Zuko stilled, vicious and waiting, "...is there anything you can tell me that _won't_ violate that stupid rule?"

"I'll ask." Asa caved, running a hand over his face, "Give me a minute."

Leaning away, brief mutterings back and forth drifted through the doorway, before Asa turned back towards Zuko.

"Private Minato gave his express permission, so, for this _one_ instance, I'll tell you what happened." Asa said, "He thought he heard something from an aggressive source, and panicked. It was stress related."

"What _sounds_ exactly?" Zuko leaned in, intrigued by that one, throw-away line.

Asa gave up and swiveled his head back to repeat the question. The answer was muffled, a quiet whisper that barely carried.

"Singing, or, uh, humming." Asa said, the bags under his eyes heavily defined under the hazy hall lights.

Zuko stilled, sucking in an audible breath. The prince hadn't liked the answer. Big surprise.

Zuko nodded, and pushed away from the doorframe, saying nothing as he fervently marched down the hall, ignoring the three petrified (it was a stretch to extend that description to Daitan) crew members. He disappeared around a corner, and the air became less heavy, less oppressive.

"Fuck." Daitan exhaled, daring to speak first, "That was weird. At least he didn't kill us, right Yuuto?"

The pure venom in his glare made it worth it, "N-Not fucking funny."

"Okay, that's it everyone. Back to work." Asa called out, reaching to shut the door, "And that's final!"

Daitan snapped her already open mouth shut, rolling her eyes.

"Ugh, whatever." She muttered, trudging down the hall, gesturing for Yuuto to follow her, "You coming or what?"

Testily, he started after her, leaving a still silent Isao behind, who would probably be there until he could deliver whatever message had been deemed important.

"I wonder if Namiyo has any coffee left?" Daitan asked, "I'll need a gallon before the day is out."

Yuuto snorted, already back into good spirits, "Good luck wrestling it away from a ship full of sleep deprived assholes."

"Including yourself?" She retorted.

He shoved her shoulder and she slapped his hand away, a well established routine. Well, if she was going to be stuck on this piss poor excuse of a boat, at least she had a friend. A good one. So she turned to him with a taunting grin.

"First one back to their post gets dessert rations for a week!"

She had already bolted down the hall, ignoring his wailing protests and swears, until she could hear his armor clank after her, huffing as he tried to catch up.

Perhaps it was childish, but if there was some joy to be found in it, who was going to stop her? Madly giggling as she darted around a corner, she could almost forget where she was. For a single moment, she felt dirt underneath her feet and the bustling of her old town around her. A dangerous, fleeting daydream, but all the best things were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, good old shenanigans with the possibility of vengeful spirits! What a time. School is starting up in a few weeks, and that unfortunately includes me, so chapters will probably be more sparse. I'm also considering starting another fic for a different fandom, which would take even more time, but don't worry! I'll still be writing for this! I do so enjoy this crew of idiots. I hope you enjoyed!


	10. Night Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something vengeful comes their way as the crew feels more and more off, until it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I struggled with this one folks, not gonna lie. But here it is! Uh, my Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks so feel free to pop over and all.

"Uncle!"

Zuko burst into the room, the door slamming against the inside wall, carelessly thrown aside.

Iroh stayed calm, and merely looked up with a scolding expression, "Was that really necessary, Prince Zuko?"

The boy ignored the jab, and turned only to harshly shut the door, marching over to sit across from his kneeling uncle. His breath was in disarray, uneven and panicked, something had happened.

"What brings you here?" Iroh tentatively asked, looking away as he moved a piece on his wooden game board.

Zuko exhaled, slow and heavy, and looked up. His mouth was pressed into a thin, sharp line, tensed in a way that should've been beyond his years. The pupil of his visible eye had shrunk into a pinpoint, and at a certain angle it looked… slit.

"Uncle…" He said, a quiet, nervous thing, "I have a question."

"What is it, Prince Zuko?" Iroh carefully replied despite the urge to immediately push the subject.

"Is… is it possible for two people to share a hallucination?" The boy looked down, almost instinctive.

Iroh paused, as if to ponder the question, "Hmmm, not to my knowledge, and not to mention, I don't quite think it possible."

Zuko grimaced, a begrudging acceptance of something he already seemed to know. But, Iroh considered, what could have brought on this line of thought?

"Did something happen, nephew?" A softer epithet, reserved for almost empty rooms, devoid of the soldiers Zuko felt he had to impress.

"I… I don't…" He struggled with the words, with his inability to ask for help when he so desperately needed it.

"Don't force it." Iroh gently reminded as Zuko turned away, "When you're ready, it'll be easier."

Zuko rolled his eyes, a distasteful click of his tongue resonating in the small, dark room. The cold wasn't as horrible, as all consuming.

"I..." Zuko sighed, a glare fighting it's way onto his face, "I, and another crew member, heard something." He gritted his teeth and admitted, "I don't know what it could've been."

Iroh almost dropped everything he was holding. Zuko had never done that in his life. The boy vied and fought for control, kicking and screaming for every last bit, or at least the illusion of it. To so clearly let himself be vulnerable… whatever was going on had _scared_ him.

A surge of familiar warmth welled up in his chest, still tinged and tainted with the undeniable and awful grief that never left him be, and Iroh nodded.

"Perhaps you could describe it to me." Iroh suggested, shrugging slightly, "It wouldn't hurt to try."

Zuko was unconvinced, hesitant, "It wouldn't help."

Iroh tried again, "I believe it would."

Zuko closed his eye, a sign he'd relented, and muttered, "Humming, uncle. I thought that I heard… humming, even when there was no one else around."

"And… you're positive about that?" Iroh gently prodded.

Not gentle enough, he realized as Zuko exploded.

"This is stupid!" He shoved off the ground, "I was a moron for trusting you!"

Iroh tried to backtrack, "No, my boy, that's not what I meant-"

"You think I'm crazy!" Zuko accused, a wrathful glint in his eye, "This was a foolish endeavor-"

"Zuko…" Iroh trailed off, watching the boy huff and puff and try and tear his own head off.

"Shut up!" Zuko snapped, smoke collecting in hazy, incomplete clouds around his clenched hands, "I don't want to hear some stupid, placating idiom! This is _serious_ -"

"I never said it wasn't." Iroh reminded, now stern.

Air was forced out through gaps in his clenched teeth, hissing as it escaped, "Then why aren't you _listening_?"

Iroh nodded sagely, "I will, Prince Zuko. I did not mean to talk down to you, I'll refrain from any more comments until after you've finished speaking."

A shudder and nod were issued simultaneously, and Prince Zuko's flickering temper faded back into a manageable size.

"Alright, Uncle…" He warily agreed, still off put, "I… guess I can try again." Zuko took in a deep breath, "Ever since we left port, I've been hearing some song, and I didn't realize what it was until a few minutes ago…"

* * *

The coal sputtered and burned as it was shoveled in haphazardly, embers sunk into the chalky remains, eating through and through as steam wafted upwards from the furnace, curling and knocking against its metal confines as it drifted listlessly. Maemi stopped, swiping the back of her hand across her forehead, flicking off the beads of sweat that glistened along her hairline. With her other arm leaning on the stilled shovel, using it to prop her tired limbs up, she sagged greatly, sighing as relief clung to her weary muscles.

"Takin' a break already?" A voice called from her side, gravelly and accusing, "Kids these days!"

"For the last time, Riku," Maemi shot back, glaring slightly, "I'm twenty-seven, and I've been working for hours, it's just a minute or two."

Riku continued to grumble, though much more subdued, stumbling around behind her.

"And what exactly are you doing?" Maemi asked, raising an eyebrow as she craned to follow his movements.

"None of your business!" He spit out, affronted by her blatant question.

"Well, considering we're both engineers here-"

"You barely count."

"-BOTH ENGINEERS HERE," She repeated with a strained grin, "maybe it _is_ kind of my business. Shared workspace and all?"

Riku huffed, "Presumptuous brat."

For the sake of respecting her elders, Maemi bit back the retort building on her tongue. It was bitter and hard to do, but she was relentless in everything she put effort into.

"As long as it doesn't mess up anything…" She relented, turning back to the pile of coal, debating if it would be better to try and stretch out the reserves or continue with their current output.

"It won't." Riku emptily assured her.

Suppressing a sigh, Maemi shook her head as she adjusted her tank top. Almost all of her clothes were becoming stained by grease and coal dust, refusing to be washed out despite going through the laundry several times, a mark of her chosen career. Though, the thought of spending the rest of her days stuck in this dingy, humid space weighed heavy on her mind.

She enjoyed fixing things, making something sputter and come to life was an amazing feeling, a high that was the reward of pure effort and ingenuity! But if anything, it was more of a hobby, a passion she was happy to have only for an hour or so each day. But the things she enjoyed, what she could rant about for hours at a time, had been deemed utterly inappropriate by the Dragon Throne, and as a last ditch effort from her family, she'd been… "encouraged" to go into the engineering field.

They were far from rich, almost slipping into complete poverty every few years, but never had they been truly starving or without some sort of home. She wanted to help, to ease their burden. So Maemi had taken to several jobs in an effort to help her family. It had never been enough.

Until someone offered up a small brochure, an invitation to a meeting discussing the possibility of unionizing. They all had been so similar, and even when their efforts had inevitably failed in the face of dismissive sneers, they kept meeting, and kept meeting, until they gained notoriety. All that time lead down a deep, dangerous rabbit hole of governmental philosophy and banned literature.

It hadn't been right, she insisted to her stricken parents after a year of participation. Disdained programs like public schooling far outweighed the deficits with the promise of an educated, stronger generation, and the possibility of other implemented policies to help boost their citizens through financial or supportive means was brilliant! But banned. Considered radical. Treasonous. Then she'd learned the definition of 'totalitarian' and understood _completely_ when their leader had gone missing. After that she took her family up on their suggestions.

The economy, the Fire Nation, as it was, was not meant to serve its _people_ , people were to be _sacrificed_ for their country, to die for the few sitting in top, the ones that benefited and profiteered off of suffering and death. Her family was scared of it, too fearful to hope or try to find a way to get a better, more prosperous future. She wasn't. She was simply angry.

But smart enough to not fully court death. Maemi still slipped up, having gotten too comfortable, too _nearsighted_ , and began rambling about the impacts of basic worker rights, the overlap of a rigid class system and the suffering of almost everyone in the Fire Nation. It really hadn't been much of a surprise when the order came for her to be booted onto a condemned vessel. Maemi was, however, surprised it wasn't some sort of jail, an arrest on the grounds of 'defamation of character' or just plain 'conspiracy to commit treason'.

Prince Zuko came as a definite shock. She had prepared for the worst, a pompous, privileged brat who'd just as soon toss her overboard than show a modicum of compassion. Never had she been so happy to admit she was wrong… for the most part.

Their first meeting had been nothing short of a disaster. She'd ordered him around, unaware of his status, and he _listened_. He was young, utterly terrified behind the walls of stinging spite he put up, and sheltered when it came to how his country actually lived. Maemi knew he could be kind, it was just a matter of getting him to see it was the best option. It was good to push the boundaries of what he believed to be "right", nothing more than gentle prodding to question what had been instilled since birth. It was sad to see how desperately he clung to the ignorant ideas he'd been taught.

Yet he was good company sometimes, eager to learn as she showed him how to weld metal with a steady stream of flame from her fingertips, or how to properly use certain tools to fix leaky pipes. Prince Zuko was caught off guard when she complimented his work, and always vehemently insisted it could've been better. A child so critical of his own worth was a terrible, terrible thing.

There was still hope, hope for her and hope for their nation. Prince Zuko could learn to be just, to lead and improve what his ancestors had destroyed in their mad grab for power. She wasn't a particular fan of the bastardized monarchy/theocracy they had in place, but it would be decades, centuries even, before the Fire Nation could grow beyond it. And that was _if_ the war could be stopped.

Oh… the war, the war that had gripped and dug its way into the world, erasing entire cultures and people, and poisoning what was left. On one particularly risky endeavor, her old group had found old journal entries from historians who had studied the Air Nomads (the Air Nation wasn't a thing, much to her surprise) that hadn't been burned, that night had been one for grim revelations. They were, for the most part, peaceful and spiritual people, hoping for freedom from worldly concerns. And her nation had burned them from the earth, ripping them from life and calling it a hard won victory. It didn't take much longer after that to find details on what had happened to the Southern Water Tribe, the prisons they were forced in. She was sickened, horrified that such atrocities had been committed, and for what? Glory? _Honor_? There was no honor in torture, in murder, in committing genocide.

But no one else could see that. Propaganda had done it's job, and there was no one they could convince that wouldn't turn them all in. Well, she thought as a wry smile came to her face, what were they gonna do now? Banish her?

A slew of swears broke her concentration, and she turned. Exasperated, she was resigned to fix whatever Riku had broken, and was not prepared to find fish bones scattered across the floor, dim red light illuminating and bathing the entire scene.

"Umm… what… are those?"

Riku, with his deep lined skin, leathery from years of work and war, scoffed, "Nothing to concern yourself with."

Maemi pinched the bridge of her nose, "There are dead animal skeletons scattered everywhere, at this point, I'm _way_ past concerned."

"Watch your tone!" He shook his fist at her as he bent over to scoop up the macabre trinkets he'd been carrying, "Whatever happened to respecting your elders?"

"First of all," Maemi pointed at him, annoyance bubbling close to the surface, "you're like sixty! That's not that old! And second, and I can't believe I have to repeat this, but there are _bones_ on the _floor_!"

"Fish bones." He corrected, reaching up to adjust the filthy red headband that wrapped around his skull.

"Still bones!" She hissed, composure slipping.

"Well, if you're not gonna let this go," Riku rolled his eyes, "someone asked for these. Don't know how he knew I collected 'em, but he offered some gold pieces in exchange."

"You really expect me to believe someone _paid_ for that?" She gestured vaguely towards the small bits that had slipped through his fingers.

"Ask that damn Helmsman if you don't believe me. Seemed pretty spooked, you know?"

"Kosei asked for fish bones?" Maemi crossed her arms, "The same guy who'd sooner chop his hand off than spend time with people?"

Riku shrugged, "He's superstitious."

"Ah. That explains everything perfectly." Maemi deadpanned.

"Who pissed in your fire flakes?" Riku raised an eyebrow, "You're not usually this… snappy."

She sighed, "Ah, nothing. Just been feeling off lately."

Riku nodded, "The cold ain't good for anyone, least of all firebenders."

"Yeah…" she chuckled, "at least this is the hottest place on the ship."

Still, it didn't feel like it. Sometimes she'd find herself shivering, at the dead of night, when no one else was awake but those left to tend the constant roiling fire that kept the vessel moving. A cold, dead feeling that whispered in her ear and trailed her movements. Maemi shook her head, it was paranoia, madness of the sea. She just needed to get out more, pay a visit to people she was more friendly with.

"I said I'd get this to him before the day was fully out." Riku half-shrugged, "Can I leave or are you gonna bite my head off?"

"Umm? Oh, uh, yeah, that's fine." She muttered without thought, waving him off, "As long as you don't drop it anymore."

"I don't think I need your permission for that." Riku rolled his eyes, a bare sprinkling of mirth in his eyes, "Don't fuck anything up while I'm out."

"Bye!" She called, waving him off as she went back to work, whispering some old tune she'd heard.

* * *

"I promise I'm fine now!" Minato insisted, pushing Asa away as he swung his legs over the side of the cot.

"As a medical professional, promises don't mean much." Asa raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, well, I keep mine." Minato crossed his arms, "So there."

Asa looked ready to throttle him, "I… don't know how to respond to that besides _no_."

"Or, hear me out..." Minato dramatically paused, leaning closer, "let me go!"

"Need I remind you that, usually, when someone's passed out, they're kept under observation!" Asa hissed, his cool demeanor chipping away, "It's one day!"

"Okay, well, yeah but I'm serious! I'm all good, a-okay really!" Minato insisted, raising his eyebrows.

Asa stared in blank exasperation, a barely noticeable eye twitch marring the otherwise still features.

"Come on, please?" He resorted to begging, widening his eyes slightly for a younger, more innocent look.

Asa did not break.

"I'm immune." The older man snorted softly, "People have tried it before, and they'll try it again."

Minato slumped, rolling his eyes, "Ugh, I just… I just don't wanna be stuck in here!"

"Hmm, is the company not up to your standards?" Asa dryly remarked.

"No! I didn't mean _that_." Minato waved him off.

Asa touched his chest, "Wow… I am touched. Just touched."

"Not helping." Minato scoffed, "I… I just don't think I should stay in one place too long, you know?"

Asa paused, "Does this have anything to do with what you saw?"

He recoiled almost immediately, "No! That's not what I meant!"

"Yes. Then the vehement denial must be from a totally unrelated reason." Asa partially shrugged.

The kid bristled, a sharp sepia gaze cast off to the side.

"If I said it was, then what would you do? Lock me up in the brig? Tell me I'm overreacting?"

"Do you pose a danger to yourself or others?"

"What?" Minato startled.

"I said, do you pose a danger to yourself or others? That's the only circumstance I'd condone "locking" you up, and even then, I doubt it would be in the brig." Asa crossed his arms.

"Oh." Minato softly said, staring at the ground under the cover of messy light brown hair that had been choppily converted into bangs.

"Listen, I don't expect you to just brush this off, that's not how people work." Asa sighed, scratching the back off his head, "You seemed terrified, and the body has strange, lasting reactions to that."

Minato remained silent.

"You don't think you're safe here?" Asa continued levelly.

Minato shifted a bit, "I wouldn't say that …"

A furious pounding on the door cut him off. Asa rolled his eyes and muttered mostly curses under his breath, a sight at which the tips of Minato's mouth curled upwards at. Wrenching open the door, Asa was obviously prepared to send them away.

"Uh, I know you said we had to get out, but they're gone now and I still have a message from Lieutenant Jee?"

Hawker Isao's voice came fluttering through the door crack, the kind of panicked that he tended to revert back to under any sort of stress.

Asa pinched the bridge of his nose, harshly exhaling through clenched teeth, "Is it important?"

"Uh, I'd say so?" His voice lifted up, still so unsure and young.

Asa looked behind him, and Minato gave him a weak smile and a shrug. Turning back, Asa caved, head drooping as his stance seemed to slouch with it.

"Alright, we can talk outside."

"Uh, it might take a bit, you're probably going to have to pay him a visit…"

The door closed and cut off the rest of Isao's sentence, leaving Minato alone and uninformed. With muffled noises drifting further down the hall, it wasn't long before he found himself surrounded by a tentative silence. He pulled his legs close to himself, allowing his arms to wrap around them, curling into a safe, protective shell.

The icy, chilled feeling crept back up, caressing the lines and curves of his face like it deeply knew them, sheeting him with an empty ache. This was worse, he decided. How utterly _gutted_ he felt. Fear was one thing. Fear was normal, fear was natural for him. But not this bitter, painful longing.

It had hummed, he said, singing something. Asa had asked what but he had lied, saying he didn't know. The truth was, of course, more raw than he'd ever admit. Minato had recognized the song as soon as the melody, though twisted and cold, had reached his waiting ears.

An old, quiet lullaby that had been hushed into braided hair and warm, youthful skin. A mother's laugh as she stumbled through verses, sharing a private joke with her child as she butchered and tore apart ancient lyrics, spinning them into something new and so much more intriguing. Oh, how he had giggled, wrapping his chubby, shrunken hands around her smooth ones, begging for more.

He had been so small, so innocent and full of hope. And he had tried to forget that. He _needed_ to forget that. Forging on ahead was not possible if he kept reminiscing about what he had lost, what had been ripped away so viciously. But his mother, he missed his _mother_.

It had been her song carried by the wind, a silent secret between the two of them, and it took what sanity he had kept and shattered it like it was nothing. Minato wanted to revert back to a broken, screaming child, to weep and mourn all that he could, but the world was rarely so kind. He had tried, but he was already so exhausted, so weary.

It's alright, the wind whispered, cloying and soft, rest it said. Shaking all desperate, feverish imaginings from his mind, one thought rose up. He wasn't safe here, he had to run. But where? There was only so many places one could hide on a vessel, especially from some unseen force.

A strangled logical part of him insisted he was imagining it, but as images of the deep sea surrounding them appeared, he didn't want to take the risk that he wasn't.

Shoving off from the cot, Minato darted toward the door, footfalls silent on the bolted floor. He deftly opened it, peering out into the empty hall, there was no one he could see. Quietly closing it behind him, he chose to go left, the way to the mess hall. It wasn't exactly hiding but if there were people surrounding him, it would only make sense that the whispers would be drowned out.

Unfortunately, he thought as he darted around a corner, the path would take him by the stairs to the deck. But it was the fastest route, and Minato doubted he had the strength to go on longer than he had to. He slowed to a stop, he could see it.

Moonlight was already streaming through the open hatch, bathing the stairs in a luminous grace that tempted and prodded at his will. Stumbling, he inched closer until he could see the tip of the early night sky through the opening, and it was _glorious_. Colors waned and bled into each other as little dots of light blotted across it, smattering a wide, endless canvas. The danger was there but… something told him to look, to take a peek out on the deck, to bask in whatever lay beyond his sight.

Thoughts of panic and resistance faded as he took shaky steps, the closer he got to smelling the salty, frigid air of the sea, the more he felt at ease, like it was holding him up, easing the weight off his limbs. And it was! He felt lighter, and emptier, than he had in years.

Minato met the first step with mild confusion. Hadn't he met to go past the staircase completely? But the thought of a beautiful moon reflecting off the waves was more than enough to shove away his concerns. He clambered up the metal support, leaning forward and using his hands, like a child, or an animal. It was entirely unprofessional and yet he didn't care.

In seconds the open night air surrounded him, prying past his lips and into his lungs, it exploded past his dim senses and carried him forward. Falling to his knees, he gasped, choking as he tried to crawl into the middle of the open area.

Something slithered over the side of the ship, a vaguely impossible feat his waning mind spouted. A cold, clammy thing met the side of his cheek, gentle and reassuring.

"My child." It claimed, his failing vision only registering the faded jade of it's rough, raised skin.

Exhaling, he felt the world fall through his weak hands as something lifted him up, the frigid night briefly embracing him as he slipped into comfort and warmth.

"One more." It whispered, rasping and hissing, pulling at words that seemed unable to fit it's voice, like old, aged clothes that bruised and strangled when put on.

He closed his eyes and let himself be lost to the calling sea.

* * *

Something pricked at the back of Zuko's skull and his instincts screamed. The irrational urge to snap his teeth and hiss fiery breath was sudden and inescapable. He looked at his uncle, a silent plea for help in his wide eye.

"Prince Zuko?" His uncle asked, pausing his shuffling of scrolls.

"Something's… something's _wrong_ , uncle." He insisted, "I can feel it."

At that, Iroh stilled, neutral as he examined Zuko, eyes searching for every detail they could find.

"What do you feel exactly?" He finally spoke, clinical in a way Zuko had never heard addressed to him before.

Refusing to let that be cause for faltering, Zuko tried to put words to bubbling, ingrained things he could barely control, much less dissect and analyze.

"It's… like something is digging into my thoughts, as if my head wasn't my own." Zuko looked down, "And it's a threat. It's dangerous, I-I don't know how I can tell, but it is."

Iroh grimly nodded, "I had hoped that the Spirits would leave us alone, but I fear we are not that lucky."

"Uncle! This isn't some spirit story!" Zuko slammed his fist on the table, "The ship might be in trouble, and you're acting like all we need is a simple prayer!"

"I did not claim that's all we needed." Iroh frowned as he stood up, "My nephew, I know you think my words as nothing more than the prattle of an old man in grief, but trust me when I say that we _are_ in danger."

Zuko froze, before a sweltering rage flooded his mind as he jumped up, "Then why won't you tell me what's happening!?"

Iroh sighed, "There were… rumors that angered Water Spirits haunted these routes, but I did not think them a cause for concern. You do not believe as I do, and they are usually docile. It seems I thought wrong."

A throbbing irritation pressed at his temples, "You need to _tell_ these things. As the commander of this ship, I'm responsible for everybody on board! What if someone gets hurt because of this?"

"That responsibility should not fall solely to you, Prince Zuko." Iroh slumped quietly, "I was remiss not to inform you, so blame falls to me."

"Blame will come later." Zuko seethed, unconsciously running his hand over his head, fingers seeking non-existent hair, "We need to _do_ something."

"Nephew, Spirits are complicated, fickle beings, and it is best to steer clear of them. If we've already offended one, then it's in our best interest to appease it, lest it seek reparations in the form of blood."

Zuko swallowed.

"Uncle… I think it's already here. On the ship."

Iroh's eyes widened, "Can you tell?"

"Maybe, I just know there's something nearby, and that it's making me want to _drown_ it in fire." Zuko blankly admitted.

Zuko had not resumed training since they'd left, at least not the kind he was used to. It was meditation and breath control, a patient teacher guiding it all. An unnerving, alien experience, but one he had yet to disdain.

But spouting flames from his palm? The mere thought sent him spiraling, unable to focus or even breathe at times, he was ashamed to admit that he tended to gravitate towards the Engine Room afterwards. It was a humid torture chamber, but Zuko had taken Maemi's words to heart, so he briefly shed the title of royalty for an hour or so. But for something to be so entirely wrong that even his weakened will sharpened into a more lethal point, then the situation really was dire.

His uncle grimaced, "We have to act quickly and reduce the number of casualties."

"We need to get a head count." Zuko muttered to himself, "Or at least isolate the Spirit and make sure it stays away from the crew."

"That would require knowledge of where it is." Iroh mused back, "Do you have any idea?"

He pondered, as a grim look fleeted over his young face, "The deck. It's on the deck."

* * *

"Did you hear something?" Yuuto hissed, smacking Daitan's shoulder.

"Agni, not everyone's as paranoid as you are." She grumbled into the palm spread over her face.

"It came from the deck!" Yuuto ignored her, taking a step towards the door that served to separate the boundaries of indoors and outdoors.

Daitan grabbed his shoulder, harshly pulling him back, "Are you stupid? You wanna go out _there_?"

"You admit it." Yuuto looked back, grim satisfaction settling heavy on his features, "You feel something, like the rest of us. You're scared."

She yanked her hand back, like his body had scalded her, "Shut up." Icy steel bit into her words, "I'm not _scared_."

"Then we should go check it out!" Yuuto insisted, gesturing vaguely towards the door, "It wouldn't hurt."

"It's past sunset now, it'll be freezing."

The excuse was weak, the metal walls provided no cover, no protection from the bitter cold that had dug its hooks in, she was already freezing, already so _tired_.

"It'll just be a minute." Yuuto pleaded, glancing quickly the closed portal protecting them from whatever was outside, "Please."

Though Daitan's skin was clammy and on the verge of shivering, her nerves were on _fire_. All sparking and collapsing together, her ears seemed dialed up to the point of pain and she could almost taste the acrid night air that stung her nose. Whatever version of this that Yuuto felt - it was no secret, since _everyone_ could feel it - it had not come with the screaming sense to run, to fight, to _protect_ or whatever jumbled garbage her mind kept throwing at itself. It was more intense, it was _clearer_

"Yuuto… we have to finish our shift." She mumbled, barely meeting his eyes.

He stopped, eyes widening for a split second, "Daitan…"

"Yuuto, just trust me, alright?" She begged, "We _really_ shouldn't go out there."

He sighed, scratching at the palm of his hand, "Fine."

Daitan's shoulders relaxed, "Thank you-"

"There won't be a 'we'."

With a determined gleam in his bright, amber eyes, Yuuto tore away from her, marching over the shut door. Daitan's senses went out the Agni-damned window as vitriolic anger slammed into its place. _She_ was the one supposed to be making stupid decisions!

"Yuuto, you fucker!" She hissed, stomping over all the same, a raised finger ready to be shoved into his chest, "You're a damned _moron_ -"

"And so are you." He easily shot back, jovial tone falling flat as he reached out to grab the door hatch.

"Told you." She half-heartedly muttered, no mirth, no teasing in her voice.

"Yeah, well, I'll take a page out of your book and do something out of pure spite." His eyes glinted with the barest reflection of fear.

His fingers closed and tightened around the hatch, sinew and flesh settled unassured and waiting.

It was breathless, and empty, the waiting. Daitan wasn't sure why she'd decided to follow him, why she had disregarded her instincts, which had never failed her, they were keen, keener than most. But leaving him to face the unknown, abandoning him to danger was unthinkable. She wasn't going to make the same mistake she had all those years ago.

Something short and angry shoved past her, jumbling her thoughts and throwing her off balance, pushing her to the side. Her temper flared and she reached out her hand to grab at the little runt who'd punted her like she was nothing. A larger one came down on her wrist instead, tight and immovable, she turned to hurl insults, stopping only as she finally glimpsed the faces of the people who'd appeared out of nowhere.

"G-General Iroh!"

"Seaman Daitan." He greeted, formal and with an easy smile, despite the crushing weight circling her wrist. "I trust you'll leave Prince Zuko be?"

Flicking her gaze to the pubescent brat who'd knocked past her, she paused. His grip was fierce as he scrambled for the door, ignoring Yuuto as he stumbled out of the way, raising his hands in wary surrender. The kid was sweating, and his pupil had shrunk to a barely visible point, leaving empty gold in its wake.

Daitan stiffly nodded. 

"Good." Iroh released her arm.

Rubbing her sore wrist, she shot a lost look towards Yuuto, who answered similarly with a shrug.

"Now, I believe it's time for you both to take your leave." Iroh suggested with a thin, sharp smile that told her it wasn't to be questioned.

Daitan was eager to listen but Yuuto hesitated, still determined to go through with his hasty, foolish idea. If looks could kill…

But the general's intimidation was lost as the door groaned with effort as the prince shoved it open, muttering what had to be curses under his breath. It heaved and the night air rushed in.

Something rippled in the back of Daitan's mind and the screaming confusion receded into a singular, furious calm. The skin that housed her in a soft, breakable shell was sensitive, prickling and waiting hungrily for the eager sensation of battle, for the bruises and burns and the _victory_. There was a fight to be had, she could just tell. Her inner flame simmered and coiled, a patient snake waiting to strike, beautiful, horrible and so very deadly.

Prince Zuko had gone entirely still, head twitching only at various sounds, mirroring her own movements. But he braved onward, the first of them to step out into the waiting night. Daitan could not help but follow after, trailing behind General Iroh.

Yuuto's softer, careful footfalls were steady behind her, grounding her overstimulated mind to something real and constant.

The deck was empty but the night was not. For all that her eyes could see, steam coming off her warm breath in crests, the glittering of ice castles that surrounded and enclosed the ship, and the fanning out of her thrown together companions, she couldn't see any threat, any _person_. But something was there.

A wet thump came from the side of the ship, and with a simultaneous jump, they all turned, determination refusing to waver. The sound of soaked flesh hitting the metal ground came from the other side. She pivoted harshly, hand already positioned to attack, and her pulse came to screeching, fearful halt.

Long limbs spanned across its body, a mottled sickening green stained by the lifeless, pallid grey of drowned skin, all shadowed by an almost endless amount of stringy, long hair, inky black and without any shine. It looked up, and _smiled_.

" _Mine_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo... uh, school starts in a few days for me. I'm not looking forward to going in person, especially since I have a lot of AP classes this year that'll demand a lot of attention. And apparently we're going to have to move because my mom got a job offer? It's to a different town with a population of 2000 instead of our city, but it's inbetween both of my parents commutes so whatever. This will unfortunately mean I have to drive 40 minutes to school but, you know, that's _fine_. This does mean I'll have to step in as oldest daughter (therefore third parent, blegh) and watch my two younger siblings. So free time? Out the window! Ha ha ha...
> 
> Next chapter coming out whenever I have time!


	11. Dreaded Moon: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spirits are unforgiving, and unrelenting, and also real stickers about kidnapping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be longer, but then I realized that it would've taken FOREVER to write the whole thing and have it be decent so I'm splitting it into two parts! School does not help this. AP Physics and APUSH are absolute bitches of classes to take, just so... time consuming. But uh, sorry about the wait, it's difficult to find time. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. My Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks, so feel free to pop on over!

" _Mine_."

It cackled. A rumbling sound that was like ice cracking and breaking apart, plunging those carefully treading on its tentative surface into the unforgiving depths of a cold, uncaring ocean. The noise splintered and lodged itself in their ears, keeping them still and in place.

Raising its head, the neck so thin and long that it almost seemed like a wonder how the head hadn't rolled off, it's face was a mocking caricature of their own. Sunken pale eyes and a wide mouth filled with too-sharp teeth, it looked as if it could've been human… once. Hands splayed across the deck as it sat in a lump, nails scraping and clawing at metal, shreds of its own clothes between its webbed fingers. It wore an old, sun-bleached fur coat, pieces of which had been torn away or had simply rotted to the point of being unrecoverable. Zuko recognized the faded blue as Water Tribe.

It moved, joints popping and moving under ruined flesh until it was crouched, too large and lanky for the scraps of fabric that remained on its body. As it shifted, something on its back came into view, a flopping, small head that peaked out of what seemed at first like a hood, yet upon closer inspection, seemed more like a large, attached pocket on the back of the coat.

"Minato?"

Seaman Daitan faltered, briefly, her lost tone cutting through the horrified reverence that hung thickly in the air.

Looking closer, Zuko recognized the head lolling out of the pouch as the private. While it didn't seem like the moldy fabric could hold a person, much less someone older, it didn't take long to come to the conclusion that Private Minato was still young, and therefore shorter and lighter than most, and could still fit.

It extended a singular finger towards Zuko.

" _My child_."

The syllables formed with nothing but frayed strings of familiarity holding them together, the sounds were incoherent, barely recognizable as language, except for the knowledge that Zuko _knew_ what it meant.

"No!" He spit back, vitriolic anger sparking at his throat as his face pulled together in an intense glare.

It patted the sleeping figure curled on its back, hissing, "One is here. One is not."

"I'm not _yours_!" Zuko spit back.

"Nephew." Iroh muttered with a strange, intense conviction, "I think it best if you get inside the ship. Now."

"Uncle..." Slipped out, pleading and… _hurt_ ( ~~weak~~ ).

"You'll be safer inside." Iroh insisted, slightly softer but still firm.

"I'm not running away!" He retorted, turning his attention towards his uncle, "This is _my_ ship, and some spirit isn't going to change that!"

Iroh shook his head, "And you won't be able to lead unless you get to _safety_ Prince Zuko."

Glancing between the wide grin of the creature, and the grim determination of his uncle, Zuko focused on the unmoving form of his crewmember, quiet and deathly still.

"I _can't_ , uncle."

Iroh wryly nodded. “I know, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko whipped around to the frozen Pikeman, whose blood had instantly drained at the sight of his comrade (friend?) in the clutches of an unknown beast.

”Pikeman!” He ordered, “Find Lieutenant Jee and inform him that we have a situation!”

Pikeman Yuuto had stiffened under Zuko’s scrutinizing gaze, but he solemnly nodded, swallowing as he stepped back, eyes lingering on the waiting creature, before darting back into the miniscule safety of the ship. He hadn’t broken under pressure. A welcome surprise.

It still hadn’t moved, not to block the escaping prey, or to attack. Odd. But Spirits tended to be… shortsighted. Focused only on something that had drawn their attention, caring little for anything else. Unfortunately, _Zuko_ was what it was focused on, pale eyes resting on him and him alone.

Though it seemed still, it was like the air around it moved in its stead, shimmering and flickering lazily, a weary haze that made it hard to stay alert. The world moved for _it_ , it was not bound like they were, it did not have to wear the burden of reality, this was merely a visit after all, the mortal plane was not its home. Zuko did not like that.

” _What_ do you think you’re doing on my ship?” He demanded, snarling at the grinning thing.

It lurched forward, scrambling on long limbs that knocked against each other as nails scraped and clawed against steel. It was quick, fluid as everyone else fearfully stumbled back, swaying gracefully as it came to a crouching stop, hair drifting behind it. Their backs were pressed against the imposing structure of the ship’s tower, and it was closer than before, only a few feet away, soaked flesh stretched into an inhuman smile.

It held out a hand, trying to beckon Zuko close, “Child! Sweet and young, abandoned things are _ours_.”

”Ours?” Seaman Daitan repeated under her breath. Her eyes widened as she threw out her hand, turning towards him, "Prince Zuko! Look out-"

Something clammy and slick curled around his wrist and yanked him to the side. The pain that exploded from his shoulder made him yelp, strangled and sharp, he saw his uncle turn as the world sharply shifted, and all he could see was the deck, and even that seemed to fade. A heaviness settled on his closing eyes, a shout began and died on his tongue, all fuzzy and warm, he let reality slip away as a cold finger brushed something out of his face.

"Pretty, sleepy thing." It whispered as he finally relinquished consciousness to the void.

* * *

Daitan was scared. Really fucking scared. Which was… hard to admit. She prided herself on being able to bury her fear, to smother it each and every time an ember popped up. Pretending it didn’t exist was just as good as facing it… right?

But the awful, slick thing that had made it’s home in her rushing veins and pounding heart was, irrefutably, _fear_. The one spirit had already set her one edge, carrying Minato around on its back, acting like it could _take_ him (she wanted to scream at that, to rage and burn and _demand_ it to put him down), but the second one had been hidden. It had been waiting to take the prince and _she hadn’t noticed_. 

The prince was explosive, a raging little sprite that had no business acting the way he did, but he was _there_ , in way that seemed almost… infallible. Like nothing could rattle him. Which was probably wrong considering he was thirteen, but he certainly acted like it. Yet it had jumped and taken him, too fast for her to lunge and grab his wrist, Prince Zuko had already disappeared from where he stood.

She was left panting where he had been, frozen in place and shivering, agonizing as she slowly turned her head to where the new creature rested, almost a dozen feet away. The prince was already tucked into the pouch, small and asleep as the top of his head peaked out. He was so young.

A growl ripped out from Daitan’s throat, an instinct that rose from the deepest depths of her soul. The need to lunge at it and tear it’s throat out with her nails came with it, even as a smaller part of her insisted on the futility of such an idea. The slimy, dead-looking thing had _taken_ something that belonged to _her_ , and everything down to her very being was enraged.

”Give. Them. _BACK_!” She roared, leaning forward and letting her arms tense up around her.

”We insist upon it.” The general darkly agreed, a similar spark of rage catching in his eyes.

”Ours! Ours!” The one that held Minato chirped as they drifted towards each other.

”Lost children. Abandoned.” The second one hissed, guttural and low.

”We take. We raise.” The first one cooed, stretching a long finger to rub against Minato’s sleeping cheek.

A ball of flames launched towards it, an explosive blast ringing in the air, and it dodged easily, glaring at Daitan’s heaving, angry form.

”He is _not_ YOURS!” She ground her teeth, a wild, fleeting look in her crazed eyes.

”Not yours either.” It rebuked, moving backwards.

”I don’t care!” She threw another blast, aimed at its feet, “You’re gonna give them both back!”

”Murderer!” It growled, digging claws into steel.

Daitan froze, hesitating, before her gaze hardened, and she spit out, “Kidnapper! Thief!”

It stood on it’s legs and howled, leaning back as Minato’s head slipped further out of the sack, before slamming its hands on the ground.

”So you dish it out but can’t take it?” Daitan stalked slowly, inching forward and to the side, slowly starting to circle it, “There’s a word for that. _Cowardice_.”

The second one lunged at her, trying to rake her arm with its talons. Swiveling on her right foot, she leaned out of the way. Not fast enough, she noted as the hand reached further, about to rip open her throat. Something bright and burning hit its side and it was sent sprawling, whimpering softly.

”I don’t want to risk hurting my nephew.” The general said, stepping forward, raising his smoking fists into the beginnings of another form, “But you leave me no choice.”

Singed skin wafted in the air, and the second one stood up, charred flesh caked on its side as a deep rumbling came from its chest.

”Not… yours!” The second one labored, arm raised and reaching over its own shoulder to cling to Prince Zuko, the bones shifted visibly in it’s shoulder as it did so, accommodating the inhuman change in its body.

Daitan took one glance, and set back to work, studying the hissing being that kept Minato in its clutches. It turned to glare at her, smirking back, she raised a fist and gestured for it to come get her.

It howled and lunged, away from its injured comrade. Screeching, it said nothing in any human language, the chattering and hissing overlapped, grating on her ears.

”He is not alone, not abandoned. Even if he believes so, it is not the truth!” General Iroh insisted, easily shifting into a lower stance as he faced his own creature, “It does not matter if you are a spirit, you are going to _listen_ and leave my nephew be!”

It growled, dingy hair falling over twisting, exaggerated features, “He is happy!”

”Then that is not the same boy.” General Iroh mused before raising his hands and sending a wall of fire towards the injured thing, "My Zuko is not easy, I know this, I recognize that. But he is so complicated and angry that I cannot leave him alone, I cannot _fail_ him like I did my own."

A long, fleshy tongue flicked through broken, pointed teeth, "But you already have, _Dragon_."

The General seemed to stiffen under that name, like an old, festering wound brought under new light, splayed for all the world to gape at and see.

"He is already so lost, lost to anger, lost to his ancestors, he is gone. There is no hope, no _redemption_ for the path he chooses to walk, and you know it. We demand balance, Dragon, in any form. Be lucky we let him live. With us, he will have no chance to murder and pillage and _take_."

"He is young! He has not yet seen the world, he does not know what his country has done, what he is the product of! There is time, there is _always_ time. And _you_ do not get to decide that for him, you will not take his future, his choices yet to be made! You say he is abandoned, well, I have yet to leave him, to give up, and I doubt it will ever happen! Our stubbornness remains a family trait!"

Hot flames rolled and stretched towards the creature, surrounding it with the merciless, gaping maw of something that wouldn't hesitate to eat it, to shred it to cinders and ash. The Dragon of the West was to be feared, after all. Daitan could respect that.

Her attention was stolen back with the dragging of nails on the deck, white scratches left in its wake, turning her with jagged marks.

”This one is so sad. So tired.” The unburned one muttered, back to speaking in an understandable way as both it and Daitan circled each other, “It would be cruel to take him.”

”Oh, so you _can_ say more than two words at a time.” Daitan shrugged, feigning a lunge to the right.

It fell for it, swiping down where she had pretended to be. It collided with a resounding thud, nails dug deep into the metal, it pulled but found that the hand was stuck. Daitan grinned and kicked out an arc aimed at its open shoulder.

It rolled harshly, yanking its hand out of the ship, and in a blur, it had scrambled a few feet out of the way. Daitan's flames met blank space.

"Scared of a little fire?" She taunted, shifting on the balls of her feet, sweat dripping down her back, "I thought you Spirits were all powerful?"

"Little spark." It seethed, glancing at the sack as Minato groaned softly, "You do not know the forces you test."

Daitan's grin widened sadistically, "Oh… I know. I just don't care."

"A brilliant, stupid fool." It hissed, leaning forward, "You are Agni's after all."

Flame curled and rose from her palm, engulfing her fingers in a wave of warm, careful fire.

"Don't doubt it." She replied, throwing it forward.

Narrowing pale eyes, it rolled again, even as the constant blazing steam followed after. The heat stung her skin as the flame didn't stop, letting it shoot out of her body in an uncontrolled swarm, pushing it to go further, to burn hotter. It was a dangerous, _stupid_ thing to do, but it kept the thing jumping around, it kept it _nervous_.

The stinging turned to something worse as she bit down on the inside of her mouth, tasting blood as she wildly turned to follow its hasty path. A stray finger brushed against her heavy fire and it hissed.

"Meddlesome brat." It spit.

"Stealing _bitch_." Daitan exhaled through gritted teeth as agony began to wrap around her shaking hands.

The orange blaze faltered, briefly, and it took notice. Pushing itself off a backward jointed leg, it raised a hand to slash, coming down as Daitan tried to slide out of the way. A nail caught the armored shoulder and dragged down the rest of her arm, slashing past cloth where it could find it. Crimson dripped onto the deck.

She reflexively clutched it, heaving as she glared through a sticky mess of loose hair. It shambled back onto its legs, tilting its head with satisfaction as it hungrily eyed the steadily increasing pool of reflective blood.

"Did it hurt, little spark?" It taunted, swaying easily as its hair fell like a curtain in front of its face, "Not as fun if the blood is yours?"

Shaking, Daitan kept a steady glare as her red, bubbling hand reached up to her tattered arm, clutching ruined fabric and pulling. It came off easier than she thought. A long gash ran down the meat of her forearm, and she winced as she pressed the mangled pad of her index finger against the beginning of the wound. Through grit teeth she dragged it over the gash, sealing it with a steady flame.

"Don't think I can take a little pain?" She asked, hissing as she clenched her hands into fists, raising them next to her head.

It scowled and dropped forward, on all fours, a more natural looking position for it to take. With a roar, it lunged. Daitan, taking a deep breath, sparks tickling her wrists, met it with a defiant shout.

* * *

"Lieutenant! You have to come quick!" Pikeman Yuuto shouted as he skidded to a stop inside the bridge.

The trickling, lethargic conversation with Asa came to a blissful halt at his panting entrance. Jee, ready to chide the boy for shouting at his superiors, paused when he saw him. Shaking wildly, eyes dilated as a shaky film of unshed tears coated his bright eyes with a misty film, hands gripping onto the door with an uncharacteristic intensity. He was scared. Terrified fit better.

"What is it?" It was sharp, to the point.

Pikeman Yuuto sucked in a shaky, hissing breath as a frightened mania exuded from his shaking hands.

"I don't- I don't fucking _know_ , sir." His voice hitched, breaking as he admitted it, "But it's-it's got Private Minato, and, and, and…"

Jee's blood ran cold as the boy swayed in his spot, still braced against the door, clinging to it like a lifeline. In any other circumstance, on any other day, he would glare and demand a clearer explanation, be the belligerent, precise leader everyone expected. But _fuck_ , it just wasn't just that simple at the moment. Because he knew too, he had felt a daunting, _awful_ thing creep up his raised, clammy skin minutes ago, a far cry from the muted waiting that had stretched over agonizing days.

Jee could hear the crew in the room shifting uncomfortably, panic prickling in the air, a static energy just waiting to become lightning. They're frightened. Sure, it's buried under years of denial, anger, and shitty coping, but it's still there, visceral and all consuming. But he didn't have time for it.

His reply was a simple and desperate, " _Where_?

Asa stiffened next to him, the gritting of his teeth only given away by the sudden tenseness of his jaw.

Pikeman Yuuto got himself together long enough to mutter, "Th-The deck." He looked up, still scared out of his mind, but steel flashed in his eyes, "They're on the deck."

* * *

Daitan could feel it. The desperation, the adrenaline stroking her already sharply honed moves, and most of all, the _anger_. She didn't think she'd been this angry in a long time. Not for years, and not like _this_.

Her skin was screaming for relief, for the fire that she could barely contain to stop. But it can't. If she does, it'll eat _her_ up instead. She knows it will. And she wouldn't blame it, either.

Another claw tried to drag across her exposed arm, freshly marked with a new, bigger scar. Daitan yanked it away, stumbling slightly before finally planting a steady food and throwing a fiery punch back at its slimy, extended hand.

She didn't know what possessed her to start speaking again, she barely trusted her mouth to do anything but throw curses at the fucking thing that had decided to take her friend, but a different, more frightened feeling took hold of her. She couldn't lose another person.

"Minato!" She shrieked over the noise of explosive flames and ice hidden in feral screams, the pleading of the name coming as a shock even to her, "Wake the fuck up, you lazy bastard!"

It snarled, lips stretching into an imitation of genuine rage.

"He can't hear you!" It screamed, unhinged and seething, "He doesn't _want_ to!"

"Eat shit, fuckhead!" She elegantly replied, sweat dripping off her face.

"He's all alone." It crooned, easily dodging her increasingly useless attacks, "He doesn't have anyone."

"'kay, well, that's bullshit." She heaved, ducking as another swipe came towards her, "Cause he has me!" Its arm went out too far, "And Yuuto!" An opening was there, an unprotected side with ribs peaking through tattered clothes, "So he sure as _shit_ doesn't need you!"

Her hands moved before her mind could will them, inches away from the sticky stench of rotting flesh. The embers that twisted in her blood and body were weak, tired. It was like she had to dig them out of her skin, prying past layers and layers of organs and bones, to pull the last dregs of her determination forward. Agni, she was _exhausted_ , and her hands fucking _hurt_ , but Minato was _right there_ and she wasn't going to let some pissy Spirit take him. The fire surged forward.

Horrible screams grated on her ears, a reverberating echo of pain and hatred that dug itself into her skull, ripping apart her ears, it just wanted to destroy, destroy, _destroy_. Something warm and wet trickled down her earlobe.

Something hard punted into her, and Daitan was off her feet, and back on the ground in seconds, metal slamming into her sides as she skidded to a stop. Blinking, she realized that, oh, she was on the ground. A quick check showed her abdomen didn't have large, jagged gashes seeping blood or intestines. It hadn't been thinking, she dumbly realized, it had just wanted her away.

With great effort, she pushed herself half off the ground, head ringing as everything tilted and swirled without any effort. Her eyes swam and nausea climbed up the back of her throat. Through disjointed thoughts, she managed to force herself to stand, swaying as she tried to ignore the throbbing of her pounding headache, spiking into little shocks as each bright color was a new jolt of pain.

Blurry vision landed on a groaning, hurt creature, cradling its side and ignoring the shifting from its sack. Whatever had happened to Minato was wearing off now, she couldn’t say if it was time or the fact that she’d managed to finally land a decent blow. Either was good.

It hadn’t noticed her yet, too concerned with trying to examine the scorching wound that sizzled in the cool night air. Daitan wasn’t sure if she could win. She couldn’t hear shit above the unending whine in her damp eardrums, her hands were blistered to hell, and the inner flame that pulsed like a heart with each breath was sputtering into dying sparks. The idea of giving up was toyed with, but then she saw it trying to limp to the side of the ship, and all thoughts of collapsing to the ground were gone, banished with a new wave of horrendous fury.

”Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” She spit out through a steaming throat, choking down the heat that rose from her core.

It paused, but that was enough. She’d already lunged ahead of it, blocking off the easy escape the Spirit was so looking forward to. The thing might kill her, but that was a thought she was surprisingly comfortable with. Because she’d kill it first. She felt that certainty in a bone deep kind of way.

The door that led to the imposing metal tower that meshed with the ship in all the wrong ways slammed open. Her attention was caught by the figure with armor crowding the doorway, grayed out hair shorn short and covering his face in tacky sideburns, and more importantly, the shivering boy standing behind him, desperately trying to peek over his seniors shoulder, searching for her. Affectionate warmth spread through her chest.

His eyes found her, widening with his mouth, and his arms fell slack despite the new spear he’d picked up along the way. She gave him a confident grin, hollow and weak, but still enough.

”Daitan!” Yuuto shouted, pointing behind her.

She couldn’t move fast enough. Her head whipped, despite the sharpness and the pain it brought her muddled, cotton-stuffed conscious, but all she could catch was rotted grey blur as it swiped across her vision.

The ground left her feet and the air swallowed her with a hungry swirl, weightless and airborne. The solid and quickly rising ground met her with a resounding thud, limbs smacked and skin bruised.

Warmth spread from her shoulder, dripping down her arm. Her head spun, stars twirling into endless circles as Daitan exhaled with a shudder, night air biting past adrenaline and her own heat. Vaguely, she could see the constant flicker of General Iroh's own fire on the other side of the deck. He was holding his own, but he was a trained general who had the title of "Dragon", so it was little wonder he could.

Pain sparked and bloomed in her neck as Daitan rolled her head over, sighing lightly as she finally caught Yuuto's frantic gaze. He was stupid, a sentimental and naive kid. But she really fucking liked him.

Which is why it seemed weird that he pushed past Lieutenant Jee, she was pretty sure he was terrified of the guy. Daitan glanced at the stream of blood dripping from her shoulder. Oh. That was probably why Yuuto seemed so upset. He was too soft, too attached. But she didn't feel a well of annoyance bubble up, just unmasked guilt. Fuck.

It didn't take long for him to kneel next to her, muttering harsh curses as he grabbed the remaining bits of armor she had and tried to look her over. Daitan yelped as his finger brushed the elongated burn pressed onto her arm, finally stopping his manic movements.

"Oh, shit…" He swore, staring with wide, shiny eyes, "What… what did you _do_?" His hurt so palpable that it felt like a slap in the face./p>

She wanted to tell him to get it together, to have waited for backup before he ran out alone, to swat at him for leaving a shell shocked officer behind. She was the stupid one after all. Daitan could barely open her mouth before a shriek cut through the air.

It was the Spirit she'd burned, glaring at her with empty, pooling eyes filled with primordial resentment, all derision and anger all mixed up into one shitty fucking stare. What an Agni-damned day. Maybe it was stupid to scoff at a pissed off, child-stealing supernatural creature, but, frankly, she deserved it. And so, without a second thought, Daitan let out an indignant sound and rolled her eyes.

"Fucking dramatic." She snorted, trying to push herself up.

Yuuto quickly hooked his arm around her shoulder, furiously yanking her up and away, stiffening under the Spirits attention. It didn't wait. With an awful moan, it sprinted, leaping from its spot, a wild instinct finally unleashed.

Yuuto was scrambling now, not caring that she had only halfway gotten up, desperately pulling her heavy body to the side. Claws were ready to stick themselves in her chest, ready to drag down for a painful, irritating reminder of her own limitations, of her morality. Like any other spirit tale. Well, she thought bitterly, at least life could get one last joke out of her existence.

A wall of flames burst in front of them, explosive power rising up into the inky night sky. Their acting captain stood before them, hands raised in the air, deftly manipulating each and every roiling flicker of fire. Apparently Jee wasn't as easily rattled as he seemed.

"Get her out of here!" He shouted, looking behind him for the briefest of moments.

Yuuto swallowed, nodding. With one last heave, he pulled her onto stumbling feet. Daitan let herself lean onto him, too tired to walk by herself. Lazily, her gaze trailed over to Lieutenant Jee, whose face was already twisted in concentration and effort. Outside of his hazy wall of orange, it stalked, the growling more annoyed than outraged. His fire was larger, practiced to be by years of battle and constant determination, it had to burn hotter and brighter than hers, but the Spirit ignored that, seeing it as nothing more than a mildly irritating obstacle. What the _fuck_ was going on?

"Yuu…" She breathed through gritted teeth, "I can't leave. You… you can't make me leave."

His hands gripped into her shoulders a little tighter, "Daitan… you're hurt."

"But Minato!" She insisted, using her good arm to gesture vaguely to the unconscious boy, "And… and they got the prince!"

"Prince Zuko?" His voice betrayed his surprise, "But-but the General-"

"Is right there! Trying to get back that fucking brat." Daitan said, croaking and low.

Yuuto turned his head, taking in the sight of General Iroh, utterly and entirely focused on annihilation, on winning. A chill rippled through his body, his arms tightening around her, clinging desperately.

"You can't fight." He insisted, softer, "I-I know you want to help Minato but…"

"But _what_?" She insisted unkindly.

"But I don't- I don't wanna lose you!" He whispered in defeat, glistening water rimming the bottom of his eyes. "You're my best friend, and _I don't want you to die_."

Daitan stilled, pressed into his shoulder, and laughed.

"I don't want to die, either." She admitted shakily, closing her eyes as the world burned with fighting flames, "But I'm not losing Minato, alright?"

He had already pulled her only a few feet away from the metal door, open and waiting for their arrival. Yuuto let them stop, and without much hesitation, pulled her in for a tight hug.

"I know." He muttered weakly, "I know."

"But you could help me. Not to die, I mean." She spoke into his shoulder, letting the words come out muffled so no one could hear them break, "Be my backup?"

Yuuto pulled away, hands still on her shoulders, gentle and reassuring, "Of course. Always."

"Great." Daitan gave a wicked grin, stretching her face so much that it seemed to hurt worse than the burns and gashes and bruises, "Let's go kick some Spirit ass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. The hand burning thing seems weird, so I'm gonna address it here. Fire Benders can get burned, which is obvious considering Zuko, but still. Usually their fire starts a few inches away from their palms or feet, because they're not fucking fire proof, it doesn't come out of their skin. So if the fire has a direction for a short burst, it's fine. But I'd imagine just pushing out a flame, with no real goal or purpose than to _burn_ for an extended period of time, that it could have some REAL bad consequences, which is why Daitan mentally refers to it as a sort of stupid decision. Because the fire will eventually not care about direction and bounce back towards the source, it's the sort of move that an untrained, scared kid would do. So. Yeah. You can get burned if you're not careful enough with you're own fire. Also, I'm just a sucker for the idea of powers having really negative backlashes, so...


	12. Dreaded Moon: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the prince and the private still waiting to be rescued, the crew bands together for a fight against unknowable, unforgiving spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I'm so sorry this took so long but also it's been hella busy at school. God I hate APUSH. Anyways please take this longer chapter as a gift so please forgive me. Enjoy! My Tumblr, as always, is @Innogens-breadsticks.

Kosei hadn't meant to pay such close attention to everything that happened on the bridge, and most of the time, he wouldn't. He _liked_ processing things through a veneer of indifference, everything was easier to deal with that way. But that had all come crashing down when that Pikeman came hurtling through the door with wild eyes and an even wilder story.

And Kosei hadn't even been surprised, not one fucking bit. The skittish paranoia that was ever pressing vanished under the wave of immense satisfaction about being right. It was a very, very brief joy.

When the last vindictive remnants dripped and faded back into the steady white noise that surrounded his head, all that was left was the empty, cold feeling of dread. Fuck, what he'd give to resurrect his grandfather from the grave and have him right there. The old man would probably smack him upside the head for letting things get this bad, then give him a hug. Sappy motherfucker.

Boots thundering out finally snapped him back into reality, and left him dazed, but Kosei knew what he had to try. Even if it was childish, and stupid. It was _pretty_ stupid. Agni, he needed a drink. But that would, unfortunately, have to wait.

Kosei had already made it halfway to the door, after barking an order to watch the course to some random soldier off to the side, when he noticed someone matching pace with him. With a stubble lined jaw and sharp, almost gaunt looking, cheeks, Asa's intense umber eyes were set on his destination, piercing through the inches of thick steel between him and the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

They didn't stop, they barely had time to look at each other, but the surprise on Asa's face told tales - disappointing tales with shitty endings. The man was a doctor after all.

"To fix something."

He was honest, at least. Kosei licked his lips.

"Me too."

His own hand got to the door first, the metal pressed cold and harsh into his rough palm, stout fingers stretching out over the rim of the hatch. Dirt permanently stuck under cracked nails, little flecks of shattered pebbles digging into soft flesh. The view was mesmerizing for a moment, despite the vanity.

"It might be faster to work together."

Kosei didn't know why the hell he'd proposed a vague team up with the local stick-in-the-mud, but it seemed right in that moment. He didn't have to look to see the agreement.

"Yeah." Asa muttered, "It would be."

Kosei hadn't even talked to him before, nothing behind a professional greeting and a short, stunted conversation about his medical history. No, he had no underlying conditions or previous major injuries, and yes he'd been caught sneaking drinks but it was not a problem, no sir. They both knew it was a lie, but they neither had the tools or resources to deal with it.

Still, an underlying current of worry connected them, and it was better to face the unknown with another person, no matter their relation.

"You have a plan?" Asa asked under his breath.

"Half of one."

A beat.

"That's not a lot."

"I know. But do you have anything better?"

"...what do you need me to do?"

"Well,” Kosei grinned, a manic gleam in his weathered eyes, “how are your cooking skills?"

* * *

Yuuto's heart and stomach were pooling in his boots, fear buzzing so much that he almost felt numb to the way it warped every single bit of him. Sickening energy made his eyes twitch and palms sweaty, he found himself eyeing the door more often than not. Guilt opened up like an endless, waiting chasm.

But Daitan and Minato were here, and he had a job to do. It's what he signed up for. Faltering was what got him into this mess in the first place.

Daitan turned away, the smug and assured persona she had slipped away for a single moment, and something far barer laid on her face. He wasn't used to it. His skin got clammier.

Her face was half-bruised from being chucked around like a rag doll, and her armor was partly torn off, blood soaking the little remaining scraps of fabric that dangled from her shoulder. An angry, thick red line was burnt into her muscled arm, long and winding. She swayed, and her eyes went hazy, but she didn't try to lean on him again, didn't try and rest. Stubborn asshat.

Her hands rose next to her head, and he noticed the blistering that seemed to stretch across her palms, the angry welts that shimmered in the moonlight, he didn't miss the wince she tried to bury as her fingers curled against her own skin. Flecks of smoke crawled past her lips.

His spear felt insignificant in comparison, flimsy and useless. It wasn't like he was good with it, it was too top-heavy for him. It was _prop_ for him, he wasn't good at fighting, or battle, he could dodge and that was the extent of his natural ability. Wood carved splinters into his tightly gripping hands, yet he didn't let up, refused to in fact. Odd, a slightly hysterical part of him thought, that he found guts only when his friends were threatened.

"You got this?"

Daitan's soft words startled him more than anything else could've even tried. Hazel eyes were trained on him, fire was behind them, as always, but it was… warmer, kinder.

He took a deep breath, feebly adjusting his grip on its wooden body. Yuuto attempted a reassuring, cocky grin, all sharp edges like hers. It didn't feel quite the same.

"You know it."

Daitan smirked, a hiccuping laugh mixing with the steam of the night. He would help her with everything he had.

"Alright, kid." Daitan coughed, pausing for a moment.

He froze briefly. The smoke that had come out in small little flecks turned into puffs. Shit.

"Oh, fuck." She muttered, dropping a hand to wipe at her mouth, grey haze slipped through her fingers.

"Daitan…" Yuuto's tentative determination wavered, "that's not good."

She started hacking, eyes going wide as she tried expelling the heavy, smothering cloud that had obviously made its home in her lungs.

"No, no, f-fucking," She tried to talk inbetween fits, "shit!"

He darted over, letting one hand drop the spear and rest on her shoulder, gently squeezing as she shook with the force of her cough.

"You don't think it's Crimson Haze, do you?" Yuuto whispered, mind going blank.

"No!" Daitan hissed, "I just inhaled some," She went back to coughing until it petered off into a manageable range, "some smoke!'

”But that’s still one of the symptoms-” He insisted.

”Yeah, but I’m not collapsing from fever, am I?” She spat back, glaring at him as she wiped at her mouth.

”Well…” He was hesitant to sigh, to write it off, “if you’re sure…”

”I am!” Daitan slowly stood up, heaving and slow, the coughs becoming lighter and more spaced apart, “I’ll go visit Asa after this, alright?

”Alright.” He nodded, “I’ll hold you to that.”

”Excellent.” She glanced back at the battle raging before them, the flames that swirled against the backdrop of a dark, twinkling abyss, “Shall we go and help our Lieutenant?”

”You just want him to stop giving you extra laundry shifts.” Yuuto settled into a lower stance, spear once again steadily raised.

”You know me so well.” She looked at him, waiting a second to confirm his attention, and nodded once.

The moved swiftly, uniformly leaping next to their superior, who was sweating from the effort of keeping up his wall of blazing flames, veins popping up on his forehead. Lieutenant Jee stopped, looking between the two of them, shaking his head.

”I told you to get her out of here, Pikeman!” He grunted, glaring at Yuuto.

”Sorry, sir! She, uh, really didn’t want to.” He stuttered, swallowing.

Jee raised a brow.

”That’s true, sir. I’m not gonna run from a fight!” Daitan shouted, opening her palms and gritting her teeth as she fed the fire, “Not if I’m still standing!”

”You’re disobeying direct orders!” Jee glared, shooting glances at both of them.

”Wouldn’t be the first time, sir!” Yuuto gulped, shakily waiting for the stalking creature to attack.

”Damn kids…” Jee shook his head, but focused on the heat distorted image of the waiting Spirit, which looked upon Daitan’s arrival as some sort of personal offense.

”YOU!” It rumbled, guttural and full of unadulterated wrath, “HOW DARE YOU?!”

”Listen, asshole,” Daitan glared, letting clipped, spiteful words fall past her lips. “you took my friend, and I want him back!”

”Agni’s brat dares to ask _me_ for favors?” It howled an outraged laugh at the sky, the moonlight flickering heavily off it’s pallid skin, “How foolish!”

”It wasn’t so much a favor,” She raised her fists next to her head, stopping the flowing fire that streamed out, “as a warning.”

It growled, hands digging into the deck, steel screamed as it was ripped from the bolted sheets. Yuuto kept his stare steady and his feet planted.

”Blood will be taken as payment for your peoples insolence!” It screeched, vacant eyes settling heavy on Daitan’s injured form.

”If I don’t roast you first.” She seethed, her glare set in place.

"Agni..." Yuuto whispered, looking between the two, unsure of who he was most scared of.

"You DARE invoke that name in _my_ presence!" It whirled towards him, roaring to the sky as empty eyes bore down on him.

He yelped, startling backwards, focused only on the pure malevolence that had become solely focused on him. It grinned at his hesitance, he was the weak link, and it had zeroed in on that. If it applied pressure…

Daitan sucked in a breath, gaze bouncing back and forth, "Hey! I'm right here!"

Jee's hands were shaking from the strain, constant exertion was dangerous, deadly even, when someone was reckless enough. Yuuto's tentative protection was slipping away, the wall was dying down, and the creature no longer had an interest in his friend. He was alone.

"Ohhh, young one…" It trilled, staking as it leaned down on its hands, bones shifting and stretching to accommodate the change, all snapping into place, "I could spare you…"

Daitan slowly started moving toward him with small, careful steps, ducking so the orange haze could hide her movements. Yuuto nervously licked his lips, the air sucking every bit of moisture from his clammy, tight skin.

"The only thing I want is my friend returned in one piece." His voice was firm despite the shaking foundation it was built upon, "Giving my boss back would also be appreciated."

"The prince?" It crooned, languidly gesturing to where it's companion circled General Iroh, rolling away from each of his blows, "Oh… the abandoned prince is _ours_. It's what we're owed after all."

"He's a _kid_. They both are!" Yuuto shouted back, finding the briefest flicker of rage to feed.

"The young are not exempt from war, from suffering." It hissed, rumbling against his ears, ocean pounding against rock, thumping endlessly, "Why shouldn't he pay for the sins of his forebearers? They did not care for the children they ravaged and killed!"

"Okay, _that's_ your big plan?" Yuuto scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Steal two kids that no one important would miss? You think the Firelord would view the loss of his banished son as a tragedy? You _really_ don't know anything!"

It's chest heaved and shifted, ribs spreading and pressing through veined, slick flesh, "You have taken our young for _decades_ , twisted them, changed them! In barren prisons with the pull of crimson with each full moon as the only call to answer! Why should we not do the same?"

"You two expect kidnapping them to make a difference?" He spit, taking a defiant step forward, "What are you planning to do, drown them? Keep them sleeping forever? No one will _care_."

The lies were acrid on his tongue, like he'd thrown up rotten, stewing food only moments before. He really hoped neither of them could hear in their fugue states.

"Lying. How _cute_." It sniffed at the air with an exaggerated sweeping motion, sighing contentedly as it did so, "I can taste it in the air, your sweat, your _fear_. You're frightened, little wisp, and not just for yourself. You _like_ them. Well," it paused, absolutely salacious, " _one_ of them."

He laughed, a product of his hysteria finally bubbling to the surface and the absolute absurdity of the situation, "I can't believe such a powerful being is so entirely _wrong_!"

"Saying it louder doesn't make it true." It's upper lip curled as it sniffed once more, "If you didn't reek of another's interference I'd have gutted you already."

He swallowed, his blood pressure dropping dangerously low as Daitan managed to get within a closer range, crouched low and quiet.

"I think you're _scared_." He challenged, the waver in his voice returning. "Scared of what we'll do to you if you get near us!"

"Rancid little thing, do _not_ presume to understand my motivations!" It screeched, a cold, listless light shimmering on its sickly skin, "Not that you will live long enough to begin to. If _we_ do not shred you to pieces, something else will, you're practically _bathed_ in that kind of energy!"

"Shut up!" He shouted, shifting all energy into the balls of his feet, "Just shut up!"

"Frightened, now?" It wheezed a horrible, gagging cackle, choking on the air and the words it had thrown at him, "How foolish! How _arrogant_! Such wonderful, false words you weaved, stupidly trying to protect those children! Yet when you face the truth, you _freeze_. Like back then, hmm?"

His breath stopped. How did it know? How _could_ it? Yet, it stood there, smug in its correctness, in the knowledge that it hoarded over him.

" _That's_ what scares you, isn't it?" It crooned, purring dangerous, sharp truths that cut him deeper than its claws ever could, "That everything you know might be _wrong_. That _you_ are wrong. Doubts live where your courage should be, where your _conviction_ lies waiting."

Yuuto's eyes flicked over to Daitan, her chest was shuddering with effort and her lowered gait was uneven, but the air around her bubbled with determination, simmering underneath a sheath of flesh. Her nod was curt and resolute.

"Doubt _this_!" He lunged forward.

Jee's raised hands dropped in a unanimous swoop, the waning plume of fire dissipating into smoke. The Spirit remained stunned, frantically calculating its next attack. Yuuto put all his weight onto his forward foot, pushing off the ground with as much force as he could manage.

The spear that was tucked close to his waist jutted forward, wood braced against his side as he pushed it out. The tip connected with the fleshy part of the Spirits shoulder, just strong and steady enough to push through layers of waterlogged meat.

Piercing wails blasted through the air a split second after, slamming full force into his adrenaline-addled brain. The urge to cram his fingers into his ears was unbearable, it wasn't sound anymore, just ear splitting _pain_. He ground his teeth, and remained steadfast, firmly planted on the deck.

Through his eyes, which had involuntarily screwed shut, flashes of color bled through. Painstakingly, he squinted through the drowning shrieks that had violently assaulted him, and he glimpsed a familiar form leaping in from the side. With renewed vigor, his grip shifted and he forced the spear to go farther in.

With ringing echoing with every pulse of his heart, a grand, burning sensation washed over the front of him. The familiar sting of fire rushed up and down his body, and he'd never been so grateful for it.

The stench of cooked meat wafted up, and Yuuto opened his eyes. The world was blurry and unforgiving, but the lifeless eyes of a creature who was out for blood were no longer staring him down. Small mercies.

Yuuto, instead, focused on the shivering girl in front of him, littered with injuries and stained with half-dried blood, steam peeling off her bright red hands. Daitan stood over a shaking, charred thing, frozen as her gaze went unsteady.

Yuuto shook his head and forced himself to the ground, on his knees as he reached out, grimacing all the while, and pushed the unconscious creature to its side. Frantic hope overtook his static mind and he began grabbing at the fabric that swathed Minato and pinned him to the Spirits heaving back. He curled fingers into the sack that seemed more like an oversized hood, nails scraping water damaged leather as he tried to rip it apart. His hand finally slipped in and found a hold around Minato’s arm.

Curling around it, he hooked the boy’s shoulder and dragged him up, ignoring the cries of agony from the splinters that had embedded themselves in his hands. Daitan slowly collapsed to the ground out of the corner of his eye, breathing slowly, the rise and fall of her chest giving him some peace of mind as he went back to focusing on rescuing his other friend. The top part of Minato’s body popped out after some trouble, giving Yuuto room to stand up while still bent over, and pull him farther. When his feet were free of the sack, Yuuto dragged him close, pulling his legs parallel to his own body, cradling the boy with his arms. He kneeled down, next to Daitan.

Lieutenant Jee was next to her, cursing as he pressed two fingers to her neck and listened to her breathing, after a moment of indecision, he began the process of picking her up. Yuuto looked at him and opened his mouth to protest.

”Not a word, Pikeman.” Jee ordered, a severe look darkening his face, “I told you to get an injured soldier out of the way and you disobeyed. She could’ve gotten in the way, she could’ve _died_. You’re very lucky she didn’t or I’d have half a mind to cart you to the brig.”

Yuuto swallowed, numbly curling his fingers into Minato’s choppy hair. He nodded.

”I understand, sir.” He croaked.

Jee looked over his shoulder, towards the fight between the last Spirit and the general, and sighed.

”I’m going to get her inside, you bring the Private. We still have to grab Prince Zuko.”

Yuuto’s grip tightened around Minato, who shifted into the embrace unconsciously. Letting him go was unthinkable, it would be like trying to dig out and smother the part of himself that _cared_. The kid would be alone, unprotected by nothing except a very exhausted and currently passed out Daitan. But, he thought, glancing over at General Iroh, Prince Zuko’s safety was even less secure. He might’ve been royalty but he was still at the mercy of an angry Spirit.

He stood up, leaning back to account for the extra weight he had hauled with him, Minato was slung across both of his arms, leaning against Yuuto’s chest with his head tucked under the Pikeman’s chin. He’d carried so many of his siblings like this, passed out after reading stories and playing for hours. He’d always been dead on his feet, but it wasn’t like their parents were around to drag them to bed, they were busy. Always busy and everyone left with younger ones with Yuuto, it was his unspoken job, the oldest child of the main family had duties after all, duties to look after the rest. He missed them, their wild eyes and horrid natures, unruly in every aspect of the word.

Jee waited for only a second, before doing the same with Daitan, her arm was left dangling as she was hurriedly picked up. They made haste, dashing over to the still flung open door of the tower, the wild light of flames still in the background, flashes of light pierced the night as the moon hung over the ship. Yuuto didn’t look behind him.

He ran through the door, turning sharply down the hall, following Jee. They had only made it twenty feet at most before Jee stopped, setting Daitan against the wall, her dozing head fell down, chin touching her chest. There was a soldier down the hall, the first one he’d seen all night that wasn’t on the bridge. Jee chased after them.

Raised voices came after. He was probably trying to get them to watch Daitan and Minato so they could go back with a little less on their shoulders. It wouldn’t stop him from worrying, but that was just a part of himself he couldn’t stop. He carefully deposited Minato next to her, it seemed better if he kept them together, they weren’t alone that way.

Yuuto squatted, nervously looking over to Jee who was caught in a heated argument with the soldier, and silently thanked Agni. The wave of guilt after was almost palatable.

Deftly, he grabbed Minato’s face and tilted it side to side, inspecting him for injuries. His fingertips felt nothing but the heat of a mild fever, and his eyes found no bruises or scratches. He didn’t have time to check anything else, so he forced his hands away, hoping that there were no serious wounds hidden by the darkness of his clothes. Minato looked peaceful, the hollow, pained look in his eyes that seemed to haunt his every waking moment was gone. Yuuto had never wanted to bring it up before, but now…

Daitain stirred, murmuring softly. Yuuto scrambled over, tripping over his own feet, finally landing on his knees in front of her. Her eyes didn’t open, and he wasn’t sure if it was relief he felt or not. A singed piece of hair hung in front of her bruised cheek and he quickly brushed it out of the way, tucking it behind her ear.

Echoing footsteps caught his attention, Jee was hurrying back. Shaking himself out, he let the hazy feeling of gripping anxiety get buried under action. He reached out and straightened the armor that hung off her shoulders, adjusting it to an acceptable condition despite the scorch marks that weathered the edge where part of it had been torn off.

”Let’s go.” Jee said, stern and taught, ignoring the person who trailed behind him.

Yuuto let himself sneak one last look at the two of them, his friends. They leaned against each other, asleep and unknowing. They were as safe as they could be. He’d make himself alright with that.

”Yes, sir.” He spoke as his mouth went dry.

He got up silently, trailing after Jee, forcing his head from turning back. He had a prince to save.

* * *

Zuko was sure his mother hadn’t aged. Her touch was brief and chaste, but he wanted it to linger like it had when he was younger, it hadn’t even felt like anything touched him. She was here, of course. Like she hadn’t left. Left? His drowsy mind focused for a moment. Why would she leave? She loved him, didn’t she?

Or was she scared, scared he’d turn out like Azula. But Azula was perfect! _She_ got father’s praise and attention, but then again, Zuko was the one mother took to feed the turtleducks and show around the gardens! A fair enough trade, even if it stung a bit. Did it hurt Azula’s feelings too?

The idea vanished, disappearing under the weight of an empty calm stirred to life by his mother’s song. She hadn’t sung it for years, but now he got to hear it again! He had been scared when he had first recalled it, he had gone to talk to… to talk to… who? It was _someone_ important, or his mind wouldn’t have fixated on it.

But mother didn’t want him to. She was angry about it. But he hadn’t ever felt her be this mad before. Not towards _him_. Mother was disappointed if he did something wrong, but she never thrummed with that tense _hate_ he was sure she had now. It reminded him of father, almost.

Mother really didn’t like _that_. Pain sparked and bloomed in his head, stabbing through the center of his brain in spasms. Why? Why would she _hurt_ him? He _loved_ her, was loyal to her, and _she loved him too_. He loved her! You can’t hurt someone you love! You can’t!

Mother wasn’t _father_!

Realization struck, clearing his head of the haze that had tried to wipe everything clean. Mother wasn’t here. She hadn’t been for years. Father had forced him away and Azula had laughed. Love sometimes meant pain. His eyes opened.

* * *

Jee was about ready to lock the next errant crew member up in the brig. Kids were fucking _annoying_. How could he have forgotten that so soon? At least some of them listened. He side-eyed the Pikeman that stood just behind him. Sometimes some of them listened.

The door came up ahead. Jee didn’t hesitate pushing past the boundary it instated.

He expected to see the General continue to struggle with the Spirit, despite the years of war and battle underneath his belt. He expected a weary, tiresome battle that would've ended with the begrudging rescue of the prince, who would've hidden his possible terror under a veneer of adolescent rage. That was not the case.

Prince Zuko was not, in fact, still asleep and restrained under the influence of some mythical power. He was awake and hanging halfway out of the sack, screaming unintelligibly as fire violently erupted from his hands. Jee was stopped in his tracks.

The General was gobsmacked for the briefest of seconds, but a wry, knowing smile replaced the surprise on his face. The creature was obviously taken aback, spinning wildly in an attempt to chuck the angry royal off its smoldering back, forgetting in its haste that he was strapped to it by its own design.

The Pikeman came to a stop next to Jee.

"What… the _fuck_?" He whispered with wild, awed eyes.

"I don't have an Agni-damned clue, Pikeman." Jee managed to say in a relatively neutral voice.

The creature had underestimated their intrepid little commander, as so many others tended to do. He could accomplish much beyond his years, and still insist it wasn't good enough. It was almost maddening sometimes. The arrogance the prince drew around himself like a thorny shield was hollow, most of the actual cutting points directed inward rather than outward.

But his determination was unparalleled despite his lack of actual confidence, far more than it had any right to be. Perhaps royalty was just like that, but Jee was hesitant to extend the hesitant compliment beyond the two princes on the ship. Still, fire like that tended to burn and rage without care, a wild, devastating destruction that scarred earth and men alike. What would be the kindling?

"Sh-should we still help?" The Pikeman stuttered, shifting from foot to foot with a nervous, vibrant energy.

Jee slowly turned, looming over him with a cool glare and a raised eyebrow, "Why wouldn't we? He's our young charge after all."

The young man stared up quizzically at that, like the words hadn't quite melded themselves into his frazzled consciousness. Young minds became so muddled with fear, they hadn't become used to the rushing of blood and energy, they hadn't quite schooled the flinching and panicking to a minimum. It was disappointing that it was necessary.

"He's young, but he does try." Jee muttered, sighing slightly, "He has much to learn, so why not guide him?"

The Pikeman was silent. Sharp amber was discolored by doubt, it made his eyes hard to look into.

"If you say so, sir." Pikeman Yuuto answered simply.

"I do." Jee nodded, stiffly turning forward.

It wasn't hard to wait for an opening after that, in a shaky, affirmative silence. Though Jee kept stealing glances of the incapacitated spirit that Seaman Daitan had so agonizingly defeated. The prince had taken the other half of the duo by surprise, the thing was wildly spinning and thrashing about, the General himself was staying out of its path, despite the obvious worry that pressed itself into the lines of his face.

"On my mark, Pikeman." Jee muttered under his breath, eyes finally catching some sort of pattern in its movement, "We'll surround it, block off its exits and provide a distraction so Prince Zuko can slip out."

"Yes, sir." He automatically replied, readying himself.

Jee squinted, waiting for the perfect moment when the shuffling of bloated, aged flesh became lethargic, predictable even, just one more stumble would do… _there_!

"Now!"

It was fluid, the way they moved in that moment. Fire flowed and roared, that was true, it was much like water in that regard. Fire was destructive, painful, yet people forgot the sea could be so much deadlier. Fire was a passion, a power, an _emotion_ , the sea swayed and rolled but it was empty, fueled by the rising of celestial bodies and not some sort of hackneyed spark from a fledgling being.

The two of them were quick, almost effortlessly gliding across metal, smoke moving against the dark backdrop of night. Almost like water. Almost.

Jee ended up next to General Iroh, even he had been surprised at his seemingly sudden appearance, judging by the furious blinking. His position was closer to the center of the deck, while Pikeman Yuuto had been pressed only a few feet away from side, where the jutting strip of metal was the only thing attempting to wall off the lapping ocean and hungry glaciers that encircled them all.

The Spirit was still in the midst of its frantic bucking, arms waving and trying to rip out the burning palms that sunk into its lithe neck, leaving burned swathes of flaking skin. The prince and the creature were blurred together by the non-stop movement, the dulled blues and greens that seemed to mesh with red and black were swirled together in a violent vortex of dangerous cuts and sporadic flames.

General Iroh readied at his side, quick looks were exchanged and the familiar sense of planning, of _battle_ , took over. Prince Zuko hadn't noticed them, the boy was too preoccupied with not getting cut open by razor sharp nails, but the Spirit wasn't as young, as frantic. Maybe its senses could've been attributed to the other-wordly haze that dripped off of it, or just from a lived experience, but it stilled nonetheless, staring down the soldiers that surrounded it. Prince Zuko glanced up with fevered confusion.

Jee glared and jerked his head to the side, waiting for the boy to heed his silent order. It was a long shot, the prince never listened to anyone if he could get away with it. But the boy was scared, he was young and volatile and angry at every authority figure that wasn't his absent father, but once in a while, he did listen. Jee hoped that the tentative, shifting trust strung between them was enough for now.

Prince Zuko stared in glazed shock for no more than single second. His bandage had been half ripped, and brittle, angry skin was peaking through the tears. His one golden eye narrowed, sparking dangerously. His pupil seemed barely there, a sliver of what most people's tended to be. Jee was all too hesitant to decide it a trick of the waning light.

The Spirit was suitably angered by the intrusion of two more supposed nobodies, and it didn't notice the air shimmering behind it, a heat mirage on an icy night in the South Pole. It's back exploded with fury and fire and its screams formed a mesmerizing symphony.

Ah. That wasn't quite what he meant to convey to Prince Zuko, but if it worked, it worked. And it had. He was no longer attached to its now smoldering back, chunks of fabric, and something he'd rather leave unknown, had been blown away. Smoke billowed up from the deck, waiting off the form of a child who was scrambling away, pawing and kicking at the slick metal underneath.

Pikeman Yuuto was terrified of the prince, Jee knew that. It was obvious to everyone, except Prince Zuko, or if he did know, he certainly did his best to remain utterly cordial. It was an odd, confusing dynamic that Jee felt was best left alone. There was always hesitance from the prince when it came to the older boy, a flicker of regret that was quickly buried. But the Pikeman latched onto Prince Zuko with little hesitation, pulling him up and back, dragging him away from the creature.

"You… _dare_ interfere… with justice, with… recompense? You embarrassing little mortal!" It hissed through wheezing breaths.

"I'm afraid I cannot feel shame for something I don't regret." Jee let his mouth run, the one tactic that always guaranteed results.

It snarled, sharp and rotted teeth protruded over its stretching lip, cutting into dead flesh. He kept his gaze cool and unwavering.

"Your flame is nothing. You lack the true spark! You know this, and you face us still?"

Angered curiosity flashed briefly. Oh, he could use that. Both the Pikeman and the prince were backing away, with the older out in front, steadily watching the shifting Spirit. Another minute, that's all they needed.

"I guess that's being human. Infuriating, isn't it?"

"Oh…" It trilled, tilting its head to the side, stringy hair falling with it, "it is. It always is."

"Perhaps you're more like us than you thought."

That definitely did the trick. Those who thought themselves close to deities were always prone to being so deliciously petty, so _flawed_. Spirits seemed to have the same psychology.

"You vile, ignorant gnat!" It shrieked throatily, livid with accusation, "You mock _us_ after all the rest of Agni's people have put us through?!"

Jee gave pause, the frenzied words had merit, more than he'd care to acknowledge. Some things didn't add up about the war, in some small form or another. The Water Tribe raids had been unnecessarily brutal, _savage_ to be accurate, and the Earth Kingdom campaigns had resulted in unneeded farmland damage, and acres of burned villages, but discussing little things like that was a good way to disappear, completely and permanently. So he knew, a bit too much than most were supposed too, but he could guess. His stomach turned.

"You're supposed ignorance is not _innocence_." The word dripped, rolling with poison rage, stinging him from several feet away, a lash cutting deep and bloody, "And you can't even have that to defend yourself, can you?"

Spirits were ancient, mysterious, wrathful, and utterly _terrifying_. Everyone knew that, stories were whispered to children in flickering candlelight, shouted in taverns to drunken, swimming ears, silently told with the flickering of passing eyes. They knew too much, got offended too easily, and had power behind reason, beyond imagination. He knew that. But it still struck fear into the depths of his soul, the way its eyes reflected his own, distorting the image of his own existence with years of torture, of death, with the destruction and violation of everything it was.

"How childish." Words coolly reverberated around him, coiling around his chest and choking him, suffocating him with their practiced weight and their constant, simmering pain, "You know that the image, the story they all share, is false. Skewed heavily in the favor of one side. But you do nothing, say nothing. Nothing that really matters. Even after everything you have lost. Funny, isn't it?"

Cold sweat trickled under his damp armor, and he kept still, maintaining an air of neutrality. It was slipping.

"Losing one's child is a sad, horrible experience." It offered to the two men, aged by death and war, not looking at either in a pointed torture, "One we've lived through too many times, little ones plucked before the moon's gift becomes truly formidable. They are so beautiful before then, just on the cusp of becoming, endless possibilities before them, and they reach so far, desperately straining. The violence that strikes them down right then is brutal, disgusting. We tried to take them, protect them. But we are feared, _loathed_ as child stealers, another story told over campfires to make the little ones listen in rapt horror."

Jee licked his lips, "And are they not true?"

The prince and Pikeman Yuuto were close to the open door of the tower, silently sidestepping its fallen comrade. Prince Zuko's hazy eye was getting sharper, more aware. Hopefully, his obstinate nature would only be stirred once he was already safely inside the ship.

"We are _better_ than any mortal could hope to be, they would never know pain, know hardships with us. They would sleep soundly and softly beneath the waves, never knowing the horrors that would go on above, never realize the ache of being abandoned. We take what is left, what is scorned. We do not steal so much as scavenge."

"Maybe they're not yours to _scavenge_." General Iroh spit, glaring with an unveiled rage. You didn't trifle with dragons and their claims for good reason.

"But are they not? They're abandoned, can't you smell it? Their isolation, their aloneness?" Its rotting tongue flicked over jagged teeth, "It's palpable, potent. We cannot help but to try and alleviate that pain."

Did they truly believe that, or was it mocking? Somehow it was hard to tell. Both, perhaps. Kindness was so easily hidden in cruelty after all.

"Somehow, I doubt they'd appreciate that. Especially with people around them willing to bear the load." Jee added on, the challenging tone at the forefront of his words.

"Do they know that?" It cackled, languidly swaying with the blowing wind, "Or are they so sure of no one wanting to help them that your mediocre efforts are wasted? So stuck in denial or wallowing grief that they can never move on."

"So you believe yourself more qualified than us?" General Iroh raised an eyebrow, barely smothering the notes of irritation in his voice.

"Oh, terribly so."

"Glad to see you're as humble and benevolent as legends suggest." Jee added.

"Oh… those tend to be exaggerated when it comes to our aspects." It tilted its head, carefully, grinning like it was placating a child, "But our resilience is often overlooked."

It didn't make sense until the sound of wet, blood-soaked fabric shifting across metal came from behind him, to his right, next to the tower. The synapses in his brain couldn't fire fast enough then.

"PIKEMA-"

He was caught in the middle of roaring the order, turning his head to look, to assess the situation. The other one, half-burned and entirely mad, was already up, quicker than any human ever could be. Pikeman Yuuto stood there, in front of it, Prince Zuko tucked firmly behind his arm. He didn't freeze for more than a millisecond.

He shoved the prince behind him before he could bring the spear up, and Jee knew it was one or the other, but the creature was already lunging.

Air shifted behind his turned back, and he could sense the outstretched claws of steel ready to sink into the meat of his neck. General Iroh's flames got there first, stinging with proximity but not much more. Screaming shot itself into his eardrums, they vibrated with the sheer force of its agony. Gritting his teeth, he shook it off, bolting forward and leaving the general to his own battle, the back of his head trickling with what he hoped was sweat.

Exhaustion made his limbs heavy, the embers swirling in his blood were lethargic, quiet, but fire bloomed outward as he threw his hands up. Pikeman Yuuto had his spear up in front of him, a fruitless effort to use it as a bar and block the oncoming swipe.

His own flame, standard orange and red, standard range and power, just… _standard_ , was not much, he didn't have the right _spark_ to so quote the taunting Spirit, not like what seems to fuel the general's or the prince's, or-

The thought was cut off, replaced by the utterly consuming process of dodging under a swinging limb meant to rake across his torso. His knees pleaded for relief, a steady symptom of age, but they held out just long enough.

He had the momentum for one unexpected, reckless move. Without thinking much more, he forced himself to half-roll, right arm bracing against the ground, the left one slamming its palm next to it, at the same time he kicked his leg up, arcing fire blooming from it. Pushing off, there was a moment where he was weightless, before the twisting forces made his legs slam back onto the deck, pulling his body into a shambling kneel.

Pikeman Yuuto balked at him. He tried not to glean satisfaction from it. Sending the boy a glare, he was quickly motivated to properly grasp his spear and make sure the dazed prince was unharmed.

The creature had been pushed away, though not by much. Charred skin twisted up half its rib cage, extending to its neck in a curious pattern of destruction. Could it really be called that if nothing was alive to begin with?

"Oh… you're a tricky one. You're not one of _his_ , not truly." Pale, milky pools narrowed, flicking over the heaving, shaking soldier, "As for you… how surprising. I don't even think _she_ knows yet. In all due time then."

Pikeman Yuuto froze under its gaze, swallowing quickly. Jee was careful to make sure the Spirit didn't take it as an opportunity to openly attack. They were at a stand still, for now.

It couldn't jump and grab the prince, not without one or two of them getting in the way, and even if it tore through one, there was always the other.

"No pithy lines, clever little responses? You truly must be drained."

Sweat was pouring over the ridge of his brow and a heavy set ache had settled low in his chest. His breathing was going to suffer for it. Yet he didn't crack, didn't twitch whatsoever. Jee was many things, but shakeable was not one of them.

Until two blundering idiots came bursting out of the open tower door, covered with rice flour and whatever else that darkly stained their uniforms.

Jee was going to put half his crew in the brig by the end of the night at this rate. Though he'd have to wait until Asa wasn't as needed. That didn't stop the brief flash of anger at the sight of Helmsman Kosei and Asa carrying half-formed rice disks in their arms.

"Oh _fuck_." Helmsman Kosei swore, eyes going wide.

His small goatee shifted with it, though flakes of flour fell from it, enough remained that it was still stained white. That was enough time for the Spirit to rush them.

Jee threw out a blast, weaker than most but still enough to make it falter as everything broke into chaos behind him. Kosei dumped everything into Asa's arms and shoved him towards the side of the ship. Yuuto grabbed the prince, forgoing all fear and lifting him up by the torso, hauling him towards the safety of the indoors. That was enough to snap Prince Zuko out of his stupor, he started shoving back, trying to kick his way out of Yuuto's grip.

The creature was at least confused about where to start.

"Just chuck it over the side!" Kosei screamed.

"Let me go!" Zuko shrieked, clawing at Yuuto's hands, "Let me _go_!"

Jee would've liked it if _one_ fucking person would just _listen_ so they wouldn't all _die_.

"Get him out of here!" He sharply ordered, wildly gesturing towards Yuuto, before directing his brief attention to Kosei and Asa, "And you two! Get the hell out of the way!"

"A minute, sir!" Asa shouted above the scrabbling commotion.

He had darted over to the side of the ship, he'd skidded to a stop just before the edge, holding an armful of whatever cobbled together mush lay there. The rest of them, though in danger, were still packed together, safety increasing with proximity. He was alone. The choice wasn't so hard for the Spirit now.

Jee could only move so fast. His mind darted, dissecting each passing frame with clinical precision, calculating actions and movements, his body was not afforded the same kind of quickness.

It lunged, powerful muscles rippling and connecting under thin, mucous covered skin, stretching out with a singular hand. He was already accounting for the spray of blood that would soak the deck, the creature, most likely splattering on him as well, briefly obscuring his vision before the tell-tale thud of a body falling would be heard. In his frenzied haze, the coldest part of him was lamenting how difficult it would be to find another capable physician.

But Asa had not frozen in inevitable, inescapable fear, and with not so much as a glance behind him, chucked the half-made food over the side of the ship. Partially cooked rice flung everywhere, decorating the air in a fog of white pellets, chunks coming apart as they flew and disappeared into the dark sea. Offerings, Jee numbly realized.

They had trespassed and were being held accountable for it, they hadn't paid their dues. That gave the Spirits the _right_ to take it however they saw fit, whether it be in blood or people. Now that they had technically given them penance, it would be harder for the Spirits to manifest, to so righteously get what they were owed. It was smart. Almost.

"The prayer, Helmsman!" Asa shouted over the screaming of fire and voices.

He ducked along the side of the rail, pressed against the metal, trapped as he darted along it, the Spirit following his every move.

Jee peeked at Kosei, the man fervently mumbling under his breath, utterly focused as he closed his eyes. Yuuto had already dragged Zuko into the inside of the tower, dropping him like a soaked cat and running back out, slamming the door behind him and pushing himself against it. The furious threats streaming from behind it were only accented by the slamming of his fists, the demands that Yuuto listen to him were promptly ignored. Desperate, the Pikeman took his staff and jammed it inside the wheel mounted to the door, preventing it from turning and opening, leaving the prince locked away from the Spirit, at least until he left to find another route to the deck.

Jee wasn't sure whether to reprimand his unbelievable stupidity or begrudgingly thank him for getting Prince Zuko out of there. Both, perhaps. With more pressing matters on hand, he turned to face the Spirit darting after the doctor.

Jee let the momentum of the creature pull him along, the sheer rippling effect of its appearance more than enough to spur him on. Eagerly, he matched it, running along its path. The food chain reversed.

They were coming up on the bow of the ship, room was running out. The fight between General Iroh and the other Spirit raged on beside them, grunts and whispers of flame only mere feet away from his unturned head. He steadfastly ignored it.

The good doctor lunged to the side, hoping to break across the deck before the Spirit could follow, it was that or let himself be trapped until the only options were gutting claws or jumping into the frozen sea, neither of which seemed to be good options for survival. But he was not nearly agile enough to accomplish it, his body was trained for quick stress responses, sleepless nights checking over heaving, mutilated bodies and digging through scrolls, not battle, not in the direct sense at least.

It had leapt, and without intervention, it would've landed on him claws first. Jee did the only thing he could think of, and flung himself into it, knocking it away with his shoulder.

The world spun around him, the solid pressure of a writhing beast keeping him grounded enough to hold onto his senses when he landed, slamming and rolling until he was sprawled out on the deck, vision expanding and imploding all at once.

The dizziness hindered him as he stumbled up, tripping over himself as he fought past it. A warm, large hand reached out and grabbed onto his shoulder, desperately pulling him away, a steady point, a buoy in a dark, twisting storm.

The smell of bland salve mixed with the biting air, and it was more than enough to dull the sharp blade of panic that shot up at the touch. Asa was alright. He hadn't failed.

Though he was helped along, the doctor's insistent hand never leaving his shoulder even as he felt it would be pulled out of its socket, (he was truly grateful in the deepest folds of his mind), Jee's legs were able to catch up with the changing scene. They'd already darted the entire way back, an endless hell loop, dogged by the vicious thing waiting to tear them to shreds. He couldn't breathe.

"Fuck. I don't suppose you have any more laps left in you?" Asa panted, dragging him back towards Yuuto and Kosei.

"Does it look like I do?" Jee hissed.

The doctor's laugh was sharp, poignant in the exploding night, discolored by the desperation that seeped into his voice. Jee rather liked it despite the situation.

Kosei was still mumbling hurriedly, almost red in the face, like he hadn't dared to breathe and interrupt his careful ritual. Yuuto, despite having sacrificed his spear, was holding the hatch tight in his grasp, apparently the prince was physically stronger than his frail frame seemed to suggest.

"Outta the way!"

The order stole the last bits of air in his lungs, left him gasping and gulping, steadying himself, his hand blindly shot out and clutched Asa's extended forearm. It was unbecoming of an acting Captain, but he would take this brief respite and covet it.

Kosei had already moved out of the way, ducking against the raised metal from the side of the ship. Yuuto blanched, swallowing once before scrambling out of there, jumping next to their Helmsman.

"This is gonna suck." Asa warned.

"Doesn't everything?"

It didn't earn quite as boisterous a laugh, but it was still something as they barreled straight toward the shaking door. It was a risk, a heavily calculated one that would hopefully see them through safely.

They ran full force at the metal entrance, letting the galloping creature behind them pick up speed, harsh slams on echoing steel edged closer and closer, mere inches away.

Until Asa banked a hard right, only a foot away from the shaking steel door, yanking Jee along with him. Their linked arms became a taut rope, stretched to the very brink before snapping back violently. He was pulled off his feet and sent hurtling onto his hurried savior. Colliding, they tumbled to the ground together, thudding on the surface as a resounding _boom_ shook the air around them.

Groaning, Asa shifted beneath his shuddering, heavy chest, and Jee, very aware of his precarious position and the imminent danger that lurked beyond view, rolled off with as much professionalism as he could muster.

The Spirit had rammed itself against the tower, it still stood, though unsure and shaky where unadulterated hatred had coursed only moments before and made it unstoppable. The prince had also halted his efforts, if only for a brief second.

Jee, stretched out across the deck, let his head limply fall to the side, and watched with increasing apathy as Kosei spit out unintelligible words with increasing vigor, spewing fevered prayers into the night. The Spirit shivered, and its color started to dull as mist faded in, swirling carefully and eagerly, waiting to swallow it whole.

He sighed, exhales tinged with dwindling consciousness, eyes becoming hard and heavy to move. Vaguely, he was aware of a pressing warmth on his hand, tugging and pulling him up. Gently, something else wrapped around his other arm, hooking under his shoulder and easing him up.

"Come on, you can't pass out here."

Low and methodical, Asa's voice was easy to listen to, no inflection beyond brief worry and exasperation. He really was a good doctor, much better than he could've ever hoped for, considering his crew.

Jee nodded, drained of anything that would have resisted the gentle command, and wearily got up, swaying slightly. He let himself be steadied, and wearily eyed the shimmering specter.

It was fading, not fast and instant, but its existence slowly receded from their world, strength fading and flaking away. It jerked around, frantically ducking and searching for something, but it was ignoring them, the injured and exhausted prey that had no more fight left. Jee let himself hope.

Until the unmistakable sound of wood splintering struck his ears, closely followed the squeaky, violent screech of steel being forced open. Prince Zuko had done the impossible, yet again, and stood on the deck, proud and waiting.

The Spirit turned, focusing on the short figure with a dangerous, sharp precision. It was lucid enough to hunt. Not good. It had been so dedicated to simply taking him, but now the prince had proved he was more trouble than he was worth, and it was still seeking revenge. It wasn't going to let them off with simple kidnapping now.

Prince Zuko, posturing and stubborn, didn't flinch away, didn't run. He hurried himself into an imperfect fighting stance, unbalanced, arms crooked and not raised high enough, everything wrong in the slightest way. Jee didn't have the energy to shout, much less pull himself from Asa and force the prince to safety. That didn't stop him from trying.

The ground lurched, surging towards him at a dizzying speed only stopped by his knee slamming against it. Heaving, there was little else to do but watch as the fading Spirit licked its cracked lips, and lunged.

He was sure that this moment would be the one that finally broke him. He had lived through, and in spite of, so much death, so much tragedy. Jee had survived, had continued his service after everything, after Ba Sing Se, after the heavy funeral and the letters that finally put an end to a marriage that fell apart long ago, it had eroded him, but not to the point where he had nothing. But if the prince, the one task he had left to fail, died, ripped apart by a creature that Jee himself had prodded at, well, maybe it was finally time to give up.

Mechanically he watched, detached in a way that only those who were prepared for tragedy knew, as a powerful, color leeched, arm swung out and reached for a warm, blood-filled body.

The figure was a blur, a rushed portrait of red and black armor shoving Prince Zuko to the ground so they could stand in his place. Claws screamed as they clashed into armor, scraping past it without any sprays of crimson. The arm was still powerful, otherworldly things tended to be, and its force was more than enough to move the soldier.

Pikeman Yuuto went over the side of the ship with ease, a resounding clang shot through the air as the boys legs slammed into metal before teetering into the nothing outside of the deck. The air was silent, without the thrumming of energy, the quiet overwhelmed them all.

The Spirit shimmered with a self-satisfied grin and vanished. The other seemed to follow suit as the bright light from General Iroh's flames faded and flickered into nonexistence. They would've checked, had their eyes not been focused solely on the now empty spot that had been so briefly occupied.

One singular second passed, and they were frozen still, rooted to the steel monster straining under them, just as cold and unfeeling. It would've been tantamount to blasphemy if one of them moved to break the reverent weight that settled over each and every person. All but one.

Prince Zuko had moved before any of them, and the split second piety that had formed was decimated as he, relying on seemingly base instincts, shot towards the edge, and without so much as a glance behind him, leapt over it, diving into the unseen depths of the cold ocean waiting patiently below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehehehe. By now I hope you realize that anytime anything happens, Yuuto's definitely going to be injured. It's necessary, I swear! Nothing bonds people faster than shared trauma.
> 
> Also! I don't know if you've caught on but the spirits are loosely based on the Qalupalik from Inuit legend. You should definitely look up some stories, they're pretty good.
> 
> On an entirely different note, I watched all of Hannibal and decided that Will Graham is the dumbest son of a bitch in the world. There's no point to me mentioning it then the fact I've already ranted about it to almost everyone I know so it seemed appropriate to put it here. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and I hope the next chapter comes out sooner. Bye!


	13. Resting Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something more relaxed as Yuuto wakes up in the infirmary with some familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been two months... sorry??? I am... just BAD at staying on time. Also supernatural happened... and I got absolute Brainrot from it, I'm so sorry. I should not be invested in objectively awful Queerbaity shows but also as the bisexual oldest child with a love for classic rock cassettes and leather jackets I project SO HARD onto Dean.
> 
> Anywho. My Tumblr is [@Innogens-breadsticks](https://innogens-breadsticks.tumblr.com/post/635920018936381440/i-promse-i-m-writng-just-tired-amd), send me asks about literally anything. I will probably answer and I love interacting with people! 
> 
> Disclaimers and CW: Allusions to ftm trans people experiencing periods, could cause dysphoria. Also allusions to executions.

Yuuto couldn't quite tell if he was dead or not. The void surrounding him was cold, cloying with its offer of rest, but it didn't mask the stinging of his nerves, the pressing weight of something pushing down on him. He probably wasn't dead if he could feel that.

He was swimming ever closer to consciousness at least, voices drifted in and out of his head, some sounding more familiar than others. The last thing he remembered was staring up at the side of the ship as he fell away, the air leaving his lungs as he hit the frigid wall of water below, leaving him empty as it enveloped him, dragging him towards the bottom. Daitan had been right, he had numbly thought, armor sunk fast.

After that, everything was gone. Not entirely, there had been a moment where a scorching hand grasped at his own, burning with enough power to leave marks. It had hurt to the point where he wanted to pull away, but he had only clung to it harder, trying to speak and only stopping when he inhaled freezing sea water. It was probably just his imagination, an image conjured by a mind flooding with adrenaline and desperation. He didn't want to be alone as he died, and that fear created some odd, painful hallucination.

He was numb, _that_ he could feel, his digits could barely twitch, and the skin around them seethed with painful retribution. Yuuto was aware enough to feel it now, along with the heavy crust sealing his eyes shut. There was a blanket over him, tucked up to his chin.

His armor was gone, he was stripped down to the grey shirt and pants beneath. Shivering seemed like a normal reaction. Rolling onto his back, soft light painting his eyelids with a warm pink, he opened them with effort, blinking to clear away the blurriness that had set in.

The familiar shapes of the infirmary awaited him, and from a familiar viewpoint as well. The cot was firm under his aching body, and that of someone else's. Another person was pressed against him, smaller and quieter, breathing steadily, but there all the same. The choppy, uneven locks were tucked under his chin, a face rested against Yuuto's collar. He smiled.

Minato was alright, just asleep, exhausted by the Spirits that had plagued him. With a careful, gentle touch, he patted the boy's head, and hoped it was enough to convey the gratitude he felt.

"Ah. You're awake."

The easy, rough voice was muted, probably by exhaustion and overwhelming worry. But the relief was there, palpable and strong. Asa had a way of remaining composed despite that, utterly immovable marble where body and heart should be, yet no less warm or inviting. A living, breathing statue of a man.

Yuuto looked up at the doctor, with dark bags cut into his creased, traditionally handsome face, overgrown stubble dotting his strong jaw, and nodded.

The tension left Asa's shoulders, and he visibly relaxed.

"I suppose you want to know what happened?"

Yuuto almost leapt out of bed right then. He'd already scrambled into an upright position, before he remembered the curled up kid sleeping next to him. Minato sleepily murmured and dug closer into the thin mattress, fingers reaching out and curling against Yuuto's wrist.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Asa searched briefly, dragging his chair mounted on wheels next to Yuuto's cot. As the doctor adjusted his seat, he shot a look towards the opposite side of the room. The other cot was full, a layer of blankets dropped upon whoever was laying down. Probably Daitan, his mind supplied with relief.

"Do you remember falling off the ship?" Asa's tentative voice broke Yuuto's concentration.

Yuuto nodded.

Asa hummed noncommittally and jotted something down on the scroll he had been clutching.

"Well, after that…" He briefly hesitated, quickly glancing behind him before he went back to his practiced neutrality, "the Spirits vanished and... Prince Zuko dove in after you."

What. _What_?

His mouth dropped, his eyes bulged and his voice came out in broken sputters. In utter and complete disbelief, he dropped his head into his hands. There was no way, absolutely not.

“He got you before you could sink.” Asa continued, either ignoring or not acknowledging Yuuto’s breaking composure, “We dragged you both out of the freezing water before any lasting damage could set in, it was a closer call than I would’ve liked.”

His words flowed softly, a steady trickle of information and emotion that went in one ear and out the other, like a piece of him was missing, unable to dam up and collect the swirling bits of words that he needed to hold onto. Some part of his reality had slotted out with the knowledge that Prince Zuko—Prince Zuko—had rescued him, it left his being unstable, without that core thought of wariness, of righteous fear. Was he so collapsable? So reliant on that barrier that it destroyed him to lose it?

“There were no losses, and the casualties that did occur were treatable. For the most part.” This time, Asa swiped a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the need to sleep that seemed to keep building up, “Daitan got the worst of it, but you know how she is.”

Yuuto could work with that. Daitan was easy, familiar, she didn’t require a readjusting of his entire world view.

“Yeah, she’s, uh, stubborn.” The hushed voice that came out was choked, cracked from disuse and distress.

A wry smile quickly flitted by before Asa let it fall, “That’s one way to put it.”

Yuuto opened his mouth. Ready to say more, to say anything as long as his mind would be kept occupied. The door being busted open was a definite distraction from that.

“Asa! You would not believe the shit Sergeant Dickhead just tried to pull-”

Daitan paused her loud rant when her gaze landed firmly on Yuuto. Too many emotions fought for dominance in her twitching, careful eyes. The pads and palm of her hands were covered with white strips, bandages with salve presumably sticking them to her skin, with more wrapped all the way up the entirety of her right arm. She was out of her armor, a grey tunic and baggy pants had been deemed acceptable in their absence, the right sleeve rolled above her shoulder. For once, her hair was out, frizzy and thick and wild.

Quickly putting down the two cups of steaming coffee she'd apparently smuggled in from the cafeteria, she took a calm, slow step forward. Glaring, she crossed her arms.

"You're a fucking idiot, Yuuto."

He sheepishly looked away.

"Yeah… not my best moment."

Daitan's covered fingers dug a little harder into the meat of her arms. Her face barely winced.

"Don't you ever do that again."

He looked up with a shy, but challenging grin, "Don't rush into battle when you're hurt then."

That hit. She recoiled, briefly, and he wondered if he'd gone too far for a moment. But the easy, satisfied smile that spread in the stead of her muffled surprise alleviated any of his concerns.

"Deal." She nodded before pausing.

Daitan tilted her head, like she'd just noticed the precarious position he was in, trapped between the metal wall and an exhausted, weary teenager. Something much more evil flickered on her face, and Yuuto's familiar dread returned.

He tried to silently plead for mercy, his eyes rounding and mouth parting in quiet fear, but she, with little mercy, ignored him. She turned to Asa.

"Then the asshole had the fucking _audacity_ to accuse _me_ of purposely taking all the servings! Can you believe that shit?!"

Her words arrogantly shattered the quiet, reserved atmosphere of the infirmary. Her innocence was well played, with an almost effortless transition into faking conversation, and Asa's belated confusion, it was easy enough to appear blameless as Minato shot up, roused from his slumber.

"Mmmhh!"

He tried to blink the last dregs of slumber from his eyes, rubbing at them furiously. Yuuto shot a withering look at Daitan as she chattered about some inane thing that had happened with Sergeant Toma.

Minato's slow awareness pooled in his slacked face, until it swiveled around to see Yuuto hesitantly smiling. He blinked. Realization visibly struck him, and with a small noise of frantic surprise, he pushed himself away.

With a loud thud, Minato had come tumbling off the bed, groaning, the boy shifted uneasily as Yuuto came scrambling across the thin mattress, peering over the side.

Asa and Daitan stopped their conversation, with the doctor kneeling quickly next to Minato, carefully grabbing his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" His voice wavered almost imperceptibly, the exhaustion dulling his sharp placidity for a mere moment.

"Mm? Oh! Y-Yeah!" Minato stammered, blinking continuously, "Fine! Totally fine!"

Asa slowly stood up, pulling Minato with him, careful and steady.

"Are you sure?"

Minato jumped away, scratching his head.

"Like I said, I'm fine! But uh, why, um, was I like…" He trailed off, twirling his other hand in the air.

"Sharing a cot?" Asa sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"Yes… _that_..."

"There were only two cots, the other is… unavailable currently," Asa winced, "it was going to be Daitan's but she refused to take it, despite her _serious injuries_."

The withering glare he shot her slid right off Daitan's smug exterior, no damage done at all.

"What can I say, doc? I heal quick." She shrugged.

He scoffed. "Let's just say that the past two days have been… messy, and it was a matter of simplicity. You hadn't woken up yet and we were worried about Hypothermia affecting Yuuto, it was practical, though I admit, under… _different_ circumstances," if they weren't cast out, Yuuto silently added, he could at least read between the lines, "it would've been handled differently."

"I guess I get it…" Minato groused, flicking a chunk of chair in front of his eyes, "It was just… odd."

Minato was at the age where wanting affection, a base comfort, was something he'd vehemently deny himself for no other reason than seeming mature. Yuuto knew the feeling, utterly debasing and lonely, and made sure to keep his face definitively sympathy free. There were few insults worse than pity for someone so young.

Asa nodded with a small tilt, before turning away, leaving Minato to simmer in his obvious embarrassment. Daitan lifted her cup up to hide the smothered laughter that quirked up the sides of her mouth. Yuuto was a polite, well-behaved man, points he prided on maintaining since childhood, but never had he so wanted to flip someone off before. In a moment of childish faltering, he scrunched his face at her, the tip of his tongue sticking out. She giggled.

A surge of familial affection shot up his chest, light and easy. As always, it tasted vaguely of guilt, but it wasn't overpowering, just enough to make the whole thing feel… off.

"Are you all going to be alright if I go and see some people?"

Asa had gotten up without drawing their attention, Yuuto noted with some strange discomfort. He was already at the door, hatch in hand, a private amusement settling easy despite its unfamiliarity with his features. It wasn't entirely a ploy he surmised, Lieutenant Jee had probably been wanting an update.

"Uh, yeah? What are we, children?" Daitan scoffed, rolling her eyes.

A beat.

"You don't want me to answer that."

She waved him away, "Ugh, just leave!"

With a poorly hidden smirk on his face, Asa bowed, finally twisted open the door, closing it behind him as he stepped through. Once the screech of the hatch being closed again subsided, the room was left empty, a void of beckoning quiet.

"So." Yuuto began, pointing at the other cot, "That one's being used by…"

"The prince? Yeah." Daitan nodded, "He hasn't woken up yet so, you know, you shouldn't have to freak out that much."

Yuuto winced. Had she meant to make him uncomfortable? Judging by the vindication on her face, yes was probably the answer. But what did she know? She _liked_ the brat for some odd reason.

"Come on." Minato pleaded, "It's been a long day, let's leave each other alone, okay?"

Yuuto almost fumbled out of the cot right then. Minato had just been agonizing over incidentally sharing a bed, and yet here he was, defending Yuuto, at the very least begging for some kind of truce. Fighting would stress him out, the kid had already been through enough, Yuuto didn't want to add to it.

Daitan crossed her arms, opening her mouth to respond to the challenge, the burning flames of competition in her gaze. Yuuto shook his head to cut her off. 

He turned to Minato, wincing, "Sorry, you're right. We shouldn't fight right."

It was hard not to let his tone get too accusatory.

Daitan made a face but kept silent.

Minato visibly relaxed, exhaling, he spoke up, "Thanks, I just… don't want..."

Yuuto put his hand up, "No need to explain yourself, I get it. I can't imagine how… stressed you are right now."

"Nothing like getting kidnapped by angry Spirits to relax you." Daitan muttered, examining her free hand.

Minato froze and Yuuto shot her a glare. Daitan had the decency to look half ashamed.

"Anyways." Yuuto said, punctuating the word by raising his voice, "How do you feel, Minato?"

The boy swallowed. His fingers were intent on wringing each other out.

"Okay, I guess. It was just… weird. Really weird."

Raw sorrow molded his words; an open, festering, untreated wound that cut down to the bone. No one with parents who cared would be able to easily join the military as a fifteen-year-old kid, not if they were… around. Then there was the fact that Minato's young face distorted with grief when he thought he was alone; always quiet, pensive moments that Yuuto felt he intruded on, however accidentally.

Minato refused to meet anyone's eyes.

"Minato…" Yuuto drawled out, syllables connecting to form a name not unfamiliar, though certainly not as intimately known as the tone it came with, "you know that… we're here for you, right? I know that we haven't known each other for more than a few weeks but… you're our friend. We care about you."

Daitan stilled, though her head nodded, an imperceptible agreement. The very idea of emotions sent ripples of discomfort flying over her body, shifting uncomfortably to accommodate the new, hesitant territory.

Minato looked away, "I… well, um, thanks. But… but trust me, you don't want to… to know. You really don't."

Yuuto silently implored all he could, desperately trying to make himself open, trustworthy enough to be acknowledged, to be useful.

"Minato, there's really not anything you could say that would just _stop_ us from caring about you. Nothing can really top Spirits after all." The joke was wry, a risk to the heavy atmosphere.

Minato cracked a tired grin. He sniffed, running a hand over his face, before finally staring at Yuuto. Analyzing, calculating with a coldness that made Yuuto feel like a specimen pinned to a board; a husk of something once living, poked, prodded and dissected.

"Okay." Minato agreed with a crack in his voice, "Okay. I think I can tell you."

Daitan, from her spot leaning against the counter, slowly pushed away. Quietly she came over to the cot, sitting down swiftly next to Yuuto, who had scooted over as soon as she'd made the first movements.

"My… my parents were good people. Loving, loyal, and honorable." Minato began with a meek, wistful line, "At least I thought they were. I don't—I don't _know_ what they really did, I just know that one day everything we had, our house, our fortune, was gone. We, um, we were nobles."

Yuuto had suspected something like that. Minato was educated, in both school and battle, far more than most people in the military, at least those who weren't officers of some sort.

"They were accused of betraying the Dragon Throne, of feeding information to enemy informants, and there's—there's no _way_ they could've done that. It _had_ to be a lie, something to cover up the real reason. I was at the academy when I got the news, they were supposed to take me away, they wanted to sentence me too."

Daitan's hand, the one free of bandages and wounds, slowly grabbed onto Yuuto's arm. He didn't know who it was for.

"I had to run. We were innocent but no one believed that, so I _had_ to." He was pleading, the desperation flaring up, miserable and wounded, before being firmly smothered, "...I didn't have any contacts, anybody to get me out of the country. But it wasn't hard to move around documents, to create new ones coming from the academy. Everyone expected me to run right then, to hang myself by the slack rope they'd extended. I hid, just in plain sight. A day after they showed up—the officials or whoever they were—new graduate Private Minato was sent out to his post on the _Wani_ , a ship to remain out of Fire Nation waters for the foreseeable future. I was safe, I ran, but I was safe. And my parents, who went with their heads held high, were found guilty of high treason. I don't... need to tell you what happened next."

Yuuto nodded his head, swallowing tightly. Daitan's fingers pressed sharp into the sleeve of his shirt, had her nails been longer she might've drawn blood, the pressure was distant, an afterthought to the new information packed densely into his skull.

"Is…" Yuuto licked his lips for a moment, considering his words, "Is Minato your real name?"

The boy sharply looked away, "No. But I always liked it. It used to be an old family one."

"Ah." Yuuto nodded, stunted and awkward, "It's nice."

Something odd flashed on Minato's face, "Yeah. It is."

"What's your plan?"

They both jumped at Daitan's voice, steeled and hardened into a weapon firm and blunt, crushing any kind of deviation from what she wanted to know.

"What—what do you mean?" Minato stuttered, stepping back.

"I mean that yeah, you're good for now, but you're still a fugitive. Someone accused of _treason_ , they're not just gonna stop looking. It'll only take them so long to figure out what happened."

Minato looked sick; green backdropping pale, dimpled skin.

"But—but I escaped! Successfully! I ran away, I'm not in the Fire Nation anymore!"

"Well… you're off the mainland, but that doesn't mean their legal influence doesn't extend past it. The colonies are a… good example. Technically they're still governed by crown officials, they're really just extensions of the empire." Yuuto slowly added, the uneasiness prickling heavily in his gut.

"But we're not in the colonies, we don't even go near them except when we stop in port and—and they haven't figured out how I left!"

"That doesn't mean they won't, and once they connect you to this ship, who knows what colony port it'll be at when we step off and find the entirety of the crown guard waiting." Daitan, annoyed and fidgeting underneath the false vitriol, spit out with too-intense eyes.

Yuuto, slightly panicking, elbowed her in the ribs. She recoiled, rubbing at the spot where bone had slammed into her side, pouting only mildly.

Minato's eyes had fluttered closed and his breathing picked up; pacing, his fingers carded through choppy, uneven chunks that fanned out around his ears, encircling his head in an almost mushroom-like way. He'd probably cut it himself, that sort of thing seemed obvious now.

"Minato," Yuuto assuaged, putting up his hand as a gesture to stop, "It's okay, Daitan's just being intense, don't get paranoid."

"No, no she's _right_!" Hysterical laughter broke through into his wobbling voice, "I haven't thought beyond this point, I haven't thought about my future! I just thought it was good enough to survive another day, but shit. They're looking, still looking, and then they'll find—they'll find me and take me away—"

"Minato!" Yuuto stood up, voice raised for the first time since he'd awoken, "Calm down! Panicking right now is going to do more harm than good!"

The air had been sucked out of the room, leaving an empty, still vacuum in its wake; emotions silently flared and filled the space with slick tendrils, ghosting on the edge of fear and concern. The heavy, sick fluttering of anger held weight on Yuuto's mind, though it instantly subsided at the sight of Minato's open look of shock.

"Shit… Minato, I'm sorry," Yuuto started, running a hurried hand through spiky hair, "I shouldn't have raised my voice—"

Hysterical laughter flooded the room before he could continue, unapologetically brash and ample. Minato was half bent over, grasping onto his knees in a desperate attempt to stay upright. The shrieking notes weren't enough to instill concern but the shine in his eyes and the crimson filling out his face certainly was.

"Minato?" Yuuto almost jumped off the for, hurrying his way over, "Are—are you alright?"

His hand brushed over the boy's shoulder, resting on it firmly. Another familiar, comforting gesture instilled after years of practice. But it had been so long, really, since he was allowed to so openly display it.

Daitan opened her mouth, and Yuuto whipped his head toward her.

"We're tabling this conversation. End of discussion."

For once, his words left nothing to be desired. They hit exactly where they needed to.

Minato, hiccuping false humor at a dizzying pace, stood up suddenly, leaning back as he took in a shuddering breath.

"I don't—I don't think I've ever heard you raise your voice before!" He half-giggled, "At least not like that."

Yuuto stopped the unconscious little circles he'd been making with his hand, stilling completely. Had he really not shouted like that before? Well, he _had_ , but not particularly directed _at_ someone. Certainly not at Minato.

Daitan snickered from her spot behind him, "I don't know, our Yuuto can be pretty spiteful at times."

At that, Yuuto's mouth twisted and Minato's giggles began anew, this time out of actual genuine elation instead of shock. Still, something in him leapt at her moniker, "our Yuuto", being said with such unadulterated warmth. Daitan didn't say things like that without reason, and always with a trace of reverence, like the statement itself was something intrinsically holy, woven with divinity. Maybe he was looking into it too hard, seeing something more in the unforgiving shallowness of human speech, but even that shimmering falsity was something beholden.

"Well, everyone's entitled to a little bit of spite." Minato wiped at the edges of his shaking grin, "It makes the world go 'round after all."

"You two are insufferable together." Yuuto chastised with no real heat.

Minato chuckled, staying still for a moment before pulling away gently from Yuuto. The loss was entirely predictable and still bitter to him, but with familiar resignation, he sat back down next to Daitan. She tossed an arm around him and any previous thoughts of disenchantment were banished.

"You're too nice for your own good sometimes." She muttered.

He blinked, "Oh."

Frankly, he hadn't felt like that lately. He felt bitter and frightened and cowardly, not things he'd never experienced before but certainly not to the degree of the past weeks. If she'd met him before he was… reassigned, then maybe her words would've rung truer for him. He was… lighter back then, for lack of a better word, readily playing into the small town bumpkin archetype.

Maybe some part of him was coming back, not quite the same, it had to mold and fit where he needed it now, a tool instead of a motivator. But he was tired of the anger, of the fear that had embroiled his life. He could never be that naive again, no, but… maybe kinder. At the very least polite. Especially to the prince. The one who'd saved his life against all expectations.

"It's not such a bad thing." She leaned in conspiratorially, "Sometimes."

He grinned, leaning closer into her warm grasp, "It really isn't."

Minato cocked his head, considering them. It was a barely noticeable movement, had Yuuto's eyes not flicked over in that split second. The boy took a breath.

"Daitan, do you know if Asa has any pads I can heat?"

"Hmm?" She glanced back at him and shrugged, "Sure, but why?"

He looked her dead in the eyes, "Cramps."

It was a beat as she stared back, she clicked her tongue and nodded.

"Cool, so—?"

"I'm trans. Yeah."

She gave him a thumbs up, "Nice."

Yuuto's head whipped between them, lost as he tried to keep up.

Minato glanced to Daitan with wide eyes as he gestured towards Yuuto.

"Does he…?"

"Probably not." She sighed, "If you want, I can explain it to him later."

He slumped with mild relief, "Thanks."

She winked, "No problem. He's been overdue for a lesson in basic cultural knowledge anyways."

They shared a knowing look, before she finally deigned to look at Yuuto, who stared with pleading eyes.

She poked his forehead with force.

"I said later, dumbass."

"Weren't you just complimenting me?" He complained, rubbing the tender spot, "And you're just going right back to insults?"

"You know that's how I show affection."

He stuck out a tongue, "Still rude."

She jostled his shoulder, "Aren't I always?"

Minato, watching with a small smile, took a quick few steps and sat down next to the cot, coiled against Daitan's legs. Looking down with brimming amusement, she brushed his hair with nimble fingers, her bandages catching only briefly.

"Are you gonna regrow it into another topknot?"

He shrugged as she ran her palm through uneven strands. "I… don't know. It's a symbol of honor, and… I don't have mine. Not anymore."

She nodded along, "Maybe one day."

"Yeah…" he sighed, "maybe…"

Yuuto reached over to give a comforting pat.

"To be fair, I've never had one either. Though that was probably because the people in my old unit were… um, _reckless_ with their bending."

He snorted, "Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem."

Yuuto beamed, almost, leaning over the short distance to pat Minato's head, who swatted at his hand, and not Daitan's, with lackluster effort and a smirk.

It felt right, the three of them together. Like the world's axis had righted itself when he hadn't even noticed it was skewed in the first place. With sparking sentiment, he let himself be dragged closer to the both of them, wrapped up in their bubble of burgeoning familiarity.

The lump resting on the other side of the room was entirely still in their wake, barely rising and falling with each breath it took. Yuuto glanced over and felt something new clench in his stomach, no more fear, just… something that felt bitterly of guilt. Maybe… maybe he could apologize, or thank him at least. Yes, he resolved, he would try and at least do that. With that, his attention was captivated once again as Daitan began the tale of her captivating morning embracing the role of coffee stealer.

* * *

"So they're all going to be alright in the long term?"

"Yes, sir." Asa nodded, utterly composed, "No lasting injuries, except for some… scarring."

Tight lipped, Jee acknowledged it with a single nod, barely shifting in his cross-armed stance. Quickly, Asa stepped to the side to let a meandering soldier through. The doctor had caught him a mere deck down from the bridge, in the middle of the hallway, though they'd ducked into a doorway, the space was still cramped.

It was a moment before Jee asked, "And what about you?"

Asa's gaze whipped towards him, openly surprised for the first time in their conversation, "What?"

Jee, rolling his eyes, gruffly replied, "You've been tending to those reckless idiots for days, and it's not like you were the picture of health after that battle either."

Smoothly, Asa's wide eyes morphed into something a bit softer, "If I remember right, you're the one that did a good amount of the fighting. Especially with that tackle. Good form."

"Well, couldn't let the kids have all the fun." He groused with the fleeting impression of a smile, "But without your quick thinking, none of that would've mattered."

"I wouldn't call it quick so much as reckless," Asa shrugged, "but I'm sure you would've had it handled with or without my interference."

Jee answered with a shrug and a prolonged look at the floor, seconds dragged by before his eyes finally flicked back up. Asa's hadn't moved at all, deceptively calm as he slowly blinked. There were small flecks of gold in his irises, brightened by the syrupy brown that made up the very base. Had it always been there?

It took one more slow head tilt for Jee to remember that, usually, people didn't stare in silence for prolonged periods of time.

Clearing his throat, Jee rolled back his shoulders, straightening his back with purpose, "Right. If that's all, you're free to go."

Asa, slouched against the door frame, didn't show one bit of expression as he carefully nodded. He started to stand up, each movement obviously schooled, and stepped back to the hall, prepared to find the way back to the infirmary.

A hand came down on Jee's shoulder, squeezing for a brief moment. It burned in a way, heat blooming from the point of contact at a rapid speed, a markless brand. Asa's grip relaxed, ready to return to his side, his fingers barely poised to release.

"Sir."

The atmosphere came crashing back down, and Jee snapped his head towards the voice. The unamused Helmsman Kosei stared back.

Jee, with something boiling sliding under his skin, glared without remorse. Fully ready to demand why he'd interrupted, he was stopped by his next words.

"We've arrived at the Southern Air Temple, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop! I can't wait to get started on this arc. I'm so sorry it took me so long but I'm. Exhausted. And in the process of moving. So it's been really busy.
> 
> Also. I am having trouble with the endgame romances. Yes. They exist. They are needed for certain arcs but like,,,, should they continue? Idk. I mean. Not like y'all know them yet but I am STRUGGLING nonetheless.
> 
> Onto the topic of Minato! I knew since I started planning this (around May) that he, and a few other characters, would be trans. The thing is, while I'm queer, I'm cis. So I would have to put special effort into creating a character like him. I researched as best I could, I wanted to build him as a person with motivations and add his transness as another part of his identity instead of making him a token character. I am not trans, I will not be able to say if he is an accurate representation, but at the very least, I hope he is not a damaging or stereotypical one. I wanted to give him a coming out scene on his own terms, since there are a lot of complaints of trans guys in fiction or fanfic being forcefully outed due to injuries and other reasons and having that agency being taken away. I wanted him to be comfortable and share it because he felt like it, not due to circumstances that took that choice away from him. But if there are any criticisms I do actively welcome them, as an author (even of fanfic) my goal is to always accurately and respectfully portray different groups as they appear. Please let me know if I've done something wrong, I'd be more than happy to fix it!


	14. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they prepare to travel up to the Southern Air Temple, things begin to go amiss. Is it an accident or is something deeper going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jajajsjsjs, I'm sorry this took so long! Anyways, here you go, I should have more time now that I'm done moving and finals are almost over. As always, my [Tumblr](https://innogens-breadsticks.tumblr.com/post/640079410932940800/wayward-flames-come-on-home-chapter-14) is open for any interaction. Thank you all!

The deck was open, empty except for the few souls that flitted about with no real purpose and one constant exception. Perched near the bow, leaning on the railing with an eye trained on the horizon, the lonesome prince steadily watched as the skiff bussed soldiers to shore and back.

The warship itself was hundreds of yards out, they weren't particularly eager to strand themselves in the deceptive looking shallows. Fog blanketed the entirety of the area, the rocky shore stretching further into it, the end obscured by cold, biting mist that sunk deep into Zuko's bones.

The sky draped itself with threatening clouds, heavy and sinking low to the earth. There was barely any sun to be felt. Weakly, he felt some intrinsic part of him struggle not to strip off some minor articles of clothing and bathe in what little light for refracted through.

Forcing away the thought, he went back to studying the shoreline. It continued around for miles, it had to according to their map, and sloped up for at least half a mile inward before melding into the looming mountain that towered above them all. Zuko traced the limestone deposits upward and found that they did not end, his limited eyesight, unfortunately, did. 

Surrounded by drifting icebergs, and miles of tundra before that, the island was its own fortress, it seemed unlikely—impossible, even—that anyone, especially an army, could traverse it all the way to the top. Yet his nation had done it on the day of Sozin's comet, defied the odds and utterly decimated their enemies. The thought should've made him proud.

What was he going to find up there? Bones splintered by heat and weathered down to nothing, an entire Air Nation army reduced to ash on the very wind they controlled? Left without rites and horribly desecrated? That thought hit a discordant note in his head, it wasn't supposed to be like that, the image was so utterly _wrong_ in every sense of the word.

That deep buzzing, the feeling that swarmed and stroked his veins when he was faced with those Spirits only a few nights ago, hummed softly in his fingertips. He _knew_ something was wrong then, beyond the shared siren song that Private Minato had heard as well, he felt something stronger than the normal paranoia that the ship sunk into continuously. It went deeper, it strummed at the threads of his very being, reverberating with such intensity that it felt like fingers running up and down his arm.

Uncle had been surprised, of course, but something about it had been off. His uncle, his stupid, lazy, ~~caring~~ , ignorant uncle had been hiding something. He knew it was an act Iroh put on, most of the time, and he _despised_ it. His uncle was accomplished, revered for his power and talent for leading, and yet he chose, over and over again, to play the part of a bumbling old man. He did it with genuine effort though, and despite downplaying everything that people praised him for, his uncle had never lied so obviously. He was always so much more careful with his falsehoods.

A frown tightened his features. Zuko would have to bring it up later, sometime when his hunt wasn't taking priority. With that, he fixated once again on his soldiers meandering up and down the shore. The skiff had already dropped at least a dozen off, all kept busy by hauling supplies and equipment as they set up makeshift camps. He had ordered it to be done by nightfall at the very latest, and for once, they seemed to be heading his orders.

The mountain would be difficult to traverse, the air would be thin so they'd have to limit the amount of benders they would send up. It would take a day or so, at least, and even then that was without breaks.

His fingers skimmed the damp metal of the rails, condensation sticking to his skin as rivulets ran off the curving sides. Silently, he turned his hand to examine it, watching the small pools run down the pink marks that stung his skin days after the fact.

He had been burned, though very lightly. A chaste touch of flame after it had dug past his layers and layers of flesh. It was hysterical, in some odd sense. It wasn't uncommon, firebenders being reckless and hurting themselves in the aftermath. It was easily avoidable with the right amount of training and focus.

But he hadn't been training, and beyond desperately trying to push the Spirits off of his ship, he hadn't been very focused. Slowly, he exhaled, flexing his fingers as the familiar tingle of warm energy conglomerated in his palms. It sparked easily.

A tiny flame formed, molded by curiosity and hesitance. It danced warmly on the lines of his hand, rejoicing in its brief release. Zuko took one look at it and felt the many eyes of spectators upon him, staring as a lesson was seared onto his face.

Breath catching, he slammed his hand the damp railing, looking away. Heart thumping in his ears, he grit his teeth. Water sizzled on the heated metal under his hand, burning vapors trapped under his flesh. He hissed and pulled it away.

He really was useless. He couldn't even summon _one_ flame without losing his composure. Maybe father really had meant… _no_. His other hand curled tighter around the steel as he forced his thoughts away from that dangerous idea. His father didn't think him useless, too far gone for redemption. He could prove himself.

Looking up, glaring at the offending landscape, Zuko was assured in his goals. The Avatar would be found and presented at the feet of the Fire Lord, as it should've been almost a century ago. They would leave tomorrow, at dawn. Camp would have to be made tonight.

Turning away, staunchly refusing to check his palms for injuries despite the stinging that persisted, Zuko stomped toward the inner bowels of the ship once more. He would avoid the infirmary, not in the mood for Asa's passive aggressive comments about his health. That left the Engine Room. Well, if he really had no other choice in the matter, then visiting and overseeing any work that took place would have to be next on his agenda.

* * *

"I don't know why you're here. Aren't you still supposed healing?" Yuuto turned around, pausing his task of hauling tent materials.

"I'm too sexy to be kept in the infirmary." Daitan shrugged, carrying a box of climbing tools. "I just don't think they could really afford to keep too many people out of commission, y'know?"

"First of all, I'm disputing the first one on the grounds that attractiveness is subjective and that you are aggressively overconfident, and second, even then, there are plenty of people still left on the ship."

"Just haul your shit, spear boy," She jeered, hopping over a rock. "I'm a bit sore and all but I can still be useful."

Yuuto rolled his eyes, "Even Minato's staying aboard with Lieutenant Eiko, and he's a stubborn brat most of the time. You can't tell me you're happy about being out here on the shore. It's freezing and creepy and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get a cold."

"Well Minato's just abusing the whole kidnapping situation for some time off—"

"Which is very reasonable."

"—and I can't stand not doing stuff! I have energy to burn, if I ignore that, I'll probably combust."

Yuuto scoffed, jostling the mix of cloth and wood poles uncomfortably sitting in his arms, "Yeah but you're like, inhumanly pumped for hard work. I wouldn't be here if Lieutenant Jee hadn't ordered it."

"Doesn't he also have you on Latrine duty now?"

Yuuto deflated. "Yeah…"

"Hey! Get back to work you two!" A voice ordered.

Yuuto snapped to attention, turning to find the voice. His eyes were drawn to one spot, a few dozen feet behind him, back where the pile of supplies was being dropped from the skiff. There stood Petty Officer Ruri, looking on with displeasure.

"Yes, sir!" He called back, shrinking in on himself.

Daitan snorted and waved her off. Petty Officer Ruri continued glaring, but didn't say anything more. After a moment, she turned away, walking off to presumably shout at someone else.

"I don't understand how you can get away with that," Yuuto mumbled.

"Because I can kick her ass and she knows it."

Yuuto frowned. “Well that’s just unfair.”

"So is life." Daitan smirked. “Get used to it.”

Yuuto scoffed, pulling ahead at a quicker pace to ignore her smug looks. After a few close calls with deceptively slick rocks, he eventually outpaced her to the campsite, a smoothed out area near the beginnings of a possible rocky path up the mountain. Dropping down the materials, near where two or three other soldiers had begun pitching tents, he waited for Daitan, who caught up only a minute or two later.

“What took so long?” He asked with a raised brow.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, haha, very funny.”

He snickered. “Okay, let’s go. I wanna finish hauling by dinner time, I hear we might actually be getting some real food tonight.”

She sighed, “I would kill for a decent bowl of corn stew.”

“I don’t think we’re that lucky," He snorted, turning to go back to the edge of the shore.

There was dark smoke on the horizon. The fog made it hard to see, pulling a dreary mist over all it could touch, but something was sticking out of the water, a haunting shadow. The rushing voices, rising with an ebb of anger and worry, began reaching his ear.

“Well.” She put her hands on her hips, squinting at the shape of the slowly sinking skiff, “I don’t think we have to worry about having to finish before dinner.”

* * *

“What do you mean they managed to sink a skiff?!” Riku huffed, massaging his temples.

“It stalled and started taking on water, that’s all I know.” Lieutenant Eiko raised her hands up.

“It’s a steam engine! It shouldn’t be stalling unless the load is too—”

“First Engineer!”

He stopped, the anger easing from his shoulders, “Sorry, Lieutenant.”

“Listen, we have to fix this by nightfall, so we can float one of you and some tools to shore, but it needs to get _done_.”

“We’ll meet on deck in twenty minutes, just give us some time to get some things together.” Riku offered, leaning on the door.

“Fine. Twenty minutes.” Lieutenant Eiko sharply agreed before turning away and marching hurriedly down the hall.

With a sigh, Riku closed the door to the Engine Room. He scratched at his headband for a minute, before finally making a move.

Turning back into the bowels, he called out, “The skiff sunk!”

Maemi, who had, of course, been listening in the entire time, shouted back, “And which one of us has to go fix it?”

“Not me!” Riku shouted back, walking back to where she—and her helper—were situated by the furnace.

With a heaving groan, he flopped down on his flattened mattress, rubbing his eyes.

Maemi nudged the prince’s leg with her elbow, who was half stuck in a small space under the pipes trying to find where water was leaking from. Fumbling for a handhold, it took a minute for him to fully grasp any sort of solid support before he began squeezing himself out. When his head popped out, glaring at her with one pale gold eye, she stifled a laugh.

Smeared with grease, armor shed the moment he came in, leaving only the gray tunic on, and with the humidity frizzing out his hair, Prince Zuko looked nothing like his title suggested. Not that her appearance was any more orderly. If anything, she probably looked worse. It’d been a while since she’d slept, too many pipes had begun bursting recently, the constant freezing and thawing of metal making them brittle. Still, it was a simple fact of life she’d resigned herself too. But Zuko—though she’d never call him just that—bore it without much complaint.

She sipped at her coffee, waiting for him to push himself to an upright position. He’d show up at her door, thrumming nervous energy threatening to burst from under his skin, with two cups of it in hand. He’d shoved it at her and Riku, grumbling about needing them to actually function. It was sweet, in a weird, very _Zuko_ kind of way.

“Did ya hear?” She asked as he sat up, futilely trying to wipe grease from his face, “Apparently the skiff sunk at shore.”

“ _What_?!” He shrieked, dropping his hands to the ground with a resounding smack. “How did those _morons_ manage to screw up unloading supplies?!”

She flicked his upper arm with a frown. “Hey! What did I say about language while you’re in here?”

He gaped. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” Maemi crossed her arms. “So, tell me, what did I say?’

He pointedly looked away, glaring at the ground with a ferocious intensity she’d rarely seen before. “If it’s not helpful or respectful then don’t say it.”

“Excellent.” She awarded him with a grin, “You’re lucky no one else is in here, or I’d have made you apologize.”

Now he looked back at her with utter scandal and betrayal in his gaze. She didn’t even bother holding in her laughter. She patted his shoulder, ignoring the scowl that had only grown with her words.

“Come on, kid.” She stood up with a yawn, stretching as something popped in her spin, “We better go fix this before the Lieutenants freak out.”

Zuko gawked, looking almost like any other kid his age, before he snapped his jaw shut.

“Why should _I_ go with? My only job is to capture the Avatar!” He challenged with a puffed chest.

“You’ve already spent half the morning helping me fix pipes I couldn’t reach, under the guise of “supervising”.” She rolled her eyes as her fingers quoted the flimsy excuse he'd easily handed out. “Trust me, you’re long past doing things because it helps "capture the Avatar" or whatever."

He sputtered, face aflame with flaring crimson under the freshly changed bandages. "That's—I would _never_ —"

"Come on." She interrupted, offering her hand to him, "I'll probably need some help with it, once they've dragged it to shore. We both could do with some fresh air."

He stared at the hand, almost offended by it. But really, it was the unease that bothered her. The kid was fucking _scared_ of people, of basic human gestures. And for all the generations of bad he represented, the years of war and propaganda, the legacy of fear he'd inherited, there was always a chance he could be… _better_. She believed it, truly.

"We don't have all day." She reminded him.

He swallowed, looking genuinely torn. Eventually, though still refusing to meet her eyes, he clasped it. Pulling him up with an easy smile, she brushed dirt from his shoulder.

"Okay, we better start packing. I don't think Lieutenant Eiko was messing around."

Briskly nodding, Zuko pulled away, refusing to meet her eyes. He immediately went for the belt she'd left on the ground, carefully scooping it off the ground and into his arms. Craning his head, he searched for a bag, shambling around the dimly lit space. Looking on with a muted affection, Maemi tilted her head. If only he could see that most people were willing to help. His uncle at the forefront of them all.

“I got it all.” He blankly informed her, adjusting the strap of some bag he’d found and slung over his shoulder.

She blinked before breaking into a wide grin. “Excellent. Let’s get going then.”

* * *

Jee was about five seconds away from completely combusting. It wasn’t an unusual feeling, not recently at least, still he would rather avoid it. 

Tightly pinching the bridge of his nose, hard enough to feel every bump and dip of cartilage, he groused, “What do you _mean_ no one knows how it sunk? There were people on board, weren’t there?”

“Yes, sir, but they’re not saying anything useful. By all accounts it was running normally until it started taking on water.” Lieutenant Eiko strained to keep a neutral tone.

“So then something pierced the hull," Jee huffed.

“No, nothing like that happened. There appears to be no outward damage, and no one’s reported anything that could’ve caused something like that. They weren’t going that close to shore.”

Jee dragged a hand down his face, heaving a tired groan. “Is one of the engineers at least being sent out to fix it?”

“Yes, we had some old regulation life rafts in the cargo hold. They haven’t been used in decades but it should be enough to row them to shore. Speaking of, I have to go up there to meet them in a few minutes,” Lieutenant Eiko informed him with a forced cordiality, “I should only be a little bit.”

He paused, exhaustion settling heavy in his bones. “Of course. Thank you, Lieutenant. Hopefully, this should be fixed by nightfall.”

“It will be, sir.” She bowed with a fierce determination that bled into her words. “If you need anything, send Private Minato. He’s taking a bit of a… break from active duty today.”

Jee nodded. “Of course, that’s understandable.”

“He should be stopping by in a moment, I asked him to sort through some paperwork.”

With that, she briskly exited, going out of the door before Jee could really process her last words. It was a relief to see that at least one crew member practiced some level of self preservation. He’d been half considering ordering Seaman Daitan to take a rest day when he’d heard she’d got on the skiff to shore. Now more than half his men were stranded there, with only half-rotted lifeboats to bring them back to the _Wani_.

The old general, usually easy going and relaxed, had retreated to his quarters once Zuko had heard the news and refused to be put back into the infirmary. A peculiar severity had been openly displayed, something Jee had rarely seen from him after years of service. He'd have to look into it.

“Sir…” Came tentatively from behind him.

Turning, he was met with the sight of a rather awkward looking Helmsman Kosei. By all means, the man was perfectly assured with himself, if not a bit self-isolating. So this new hesitance was a bit… alarming, to say the least.

“Yes, Helmsman?”

“Well, sir, I… well there’s no real point in drawing it out, but I, um, know a good amount about Spirits and how to deal with them.”

Jee nodded. Even he was familiar with some aspects, he’d spent enough time in the Earth Kingdom and the colonies to know the very basics. Though Kosei was… something else, coming up with an appeasement ritual, however bastardized, on the fly. Usually those things took time, planning, and well made food. Spirits were finicky things, and somehow rice molded into pucks with a good amount of expired rice flour sprinkled on managed to be counted with the likes of rice cake. However the hell Kosei managed that was beyond Jee, but he was more than thankful for it.

“Yes, and we’re all very grateful for it.”Jee said, though a tad apprehensive.

“Well…” Kosei trailed off, sighing, “I just thought you should know that though we might not be technically trespassing in the southern ocean anymore, it’s a possibility we might be doing so here.”

Jee tilted his head, considering it. It _was_ an Air Nation temple, key word: temple. Not to mention, the aftermath of battles usually included funeral rites for a good reason. He couldn’t be sure if any of his predecessors would have done such a thing.

“Explain,” He gruffly prompted.

“Well, for starters, this is an island, a different domain than the one we’re in now, different Spirits could be claiming this area. Next, this is a religious site, however old and unused, there was a lot of power here at one point. Of course, that brings us to the final point, this was a place of… of a lot of death, sir. The Air Nomads had… specific funeral rites—”

“Air Nomads?” Jee interrupted.

“Ah, yeah, that’s they’re called pretty much everywhere else. I didn’t even know that the mainland called them something different until I joined up.” Kosei shrugged, “But the point is that they preferred sky burials, but that, um, didn’t happen. The Air Nomads were extraordinarily spiritual, most considered themselves free of earthly attachments, but with the way they uh, died… it wouldn’t be terribly surprising if some were looking for some sort of revenge.”

“So angry ghosts?” Jee sighed, “That’s just great.”

“Well, that might not be all.” Kosei hesitated, though it was brief, “Their patron Spirits, each bender nation has them—Agni in our case, Tui and La in the Water Tribes, you get the idea—but with no Airbenders to keep their major Spirits appeased, it’s possible that they might deign to somewhat interfere.”

“M—Major Spirits?” Jee repeated, something cold squirming in his gut.

“Usually they don’t get involved, especially ones related to the Air Nomads, but in these circumstances, they… might. Maybe they already have.”

Jee paused, staring with unadulterated shock. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Kosei shifted nervously, “Spirits have always hated technological advancement. Especially regarding the warships, something about us overstepping our bounds. It’s really only a suspicion but if nothing substantial caused the skiff to break down, then maybe the reason wasn’t mechanical.”

“Oh.” Jee exhaled, gaze fixed firmly out of the window as fear began to ice his veins.

* * *

Burgeoning anxiety bubbled in her chest, fizzing up at an alarming rate. Daitan knew it wasn’t unusual, she’d felt it many times before. The warmth that dusted her face and palms, leaving her sweaty, disorganized, a bumbling fool. She knew they’d have to send someone to fix the skiff that they’d managed to drag to the beach through sheer panic, but she hadn’t known it would be _Maemi_.

Truth be told, Daitan didn’t think it could be salvaged, not with what they had on hand. Usually there were tools, machines for the job that would drag the boat up the proper way, to pump the water out. But they didn’t have that on hand, she’d been in the cargo hold enough times in the past few weeks to know. The engine was probably as good as garbage as far as she could guess. She didn’t really know how sinking would affect it. There was a reason she was a soldier and not a mechanic.

“Oh, I didn’t know they’d be sending out Maemi.” Yuuto noted blandly from his place at her side.

“Of course they would. She’s brilliant.” Daitan muttered, crossing her arms.

Yuuto gave her a questioning look before shrugging, “I guess. I’ve never met her before, and it seems weird to do it now.”

"We should probably say hi, make the trip out worth it." She shrugged as though her heart was pounding a mile a minute.

"Maybe once she gets to shore." Yuuto mumbled, staring at the approaching life raft. "I didn't even know we had wooden boats."

"'Course we do." Daitan flicked her eyes over, "It's an old warship, that's what they had for life rafts before the new ones came out. Because, would you guess it, fire and wood don't mix."

He rolled his eyes, sighing at her snark. Still, she could see the edges of his mouth turn up, suppressed amusement in each tilt of his head. He was easy to read, and while it was fun, it made her concerned.

"Oh _crap_." He hissed, suddenly leaning forward and steadying a hand on her shoulder.

"What?" She turned to him, taking in the new burst of apprehension on his features. Swiveling her head back, she squinted at the raft. 

Despite the distance, she could definitely make out Maemi’s form, rowing steadily with the bobbing waves. Though, if she squinted, she could make out something else. Smaller, hunched over, and bald— _oh_.

Daitan cocked her head at Yuuto. "Are you gonna be cool or not?"

He looked up at her with wide eyes, refusing to speak. 

She sighed. "Guess that's a no."

He wrinkled his nose at her. "Come on! I just… what do I even _say_?"

She shrugged. "Thank him, I guess? Just, like, politely. Since he's a prince."

He squinted at her. "Since when have you ever cared about being polite?"

Punching his shoulder, she answered, "Since he saved your life, dumbass!"

The smooth tone, jovial and easy in all regards, didn't quite mask the spike of emotion, the subtle break in her voice. He'd almost died. Drowned and frozen at the bottom of the sea. _Yuuto_ of all people had almost gone out alone and cold and afraid. To save someone he was deathly afraid of.

Even now, as he was faced with dozens of problems, he looked at her with the utmost concern, the highest priority on a list of imminent issues. He wasn't made for this, the war, the fighting, the _death_. Neither was she, to be honest, hence why the navy ended up being her choice, better to never have to deal with the repercussions up close. But what else was a poor reckless kid looking for a sense of purpose to do?

"Yeah…" Yuuto ended up saying, warily shifting his eyes away from her. "He did."

"It's not like you've talked to him about it. He just—poof! Left the infirmary before we knew he was awake," She continued, a glassy, tense element to her words, "But that's just how he is, I guess."

Forcibly swallowing, she didn't look next to her. It had already been hard enough, dealing with the aftermath. She couldn't do it again.

Of course, when she'd woken up bloody, bruised, and exhausted in the hallway, they hadn't quite fished Yuuto and the prince out of the sea. It was a numb terror as she crawled down the echoing metal hall filled with terse orders undercut with that _awful_ sinking fear. When she'd managed to get the door—haphazardly thrown open and dented by an almost inhuman effort—and peaked around the steel frame, past the sight of splintered wood, it had chilled her down to the deepest part of her soul.

General Iroh— _the_ feared Dragon of the West, deified and worshipped by an entire nation—had been leaning over the side, a stark horror on his face as he shouted, _begged_ for rope. Had his grip not been iron on the rails, he might've gone over himself.

Of course, in her half conscious haze, she remained a silent voyeur to the unbidden grief that had settled frantically over the deck. It wasn't until they had tossed a life preserver overboard—dark faces briefly abating as something grasped onto the other end, the rope going taut—and pulled up _two_ bodies that something close to alarm finally spurred her blood into pumping.

Delirious with pain, driven to irrationality with the simmering heat still settled on her aching skin, she'd pushed up to shaking legs and clutched ruined metal as Yuuto (Oh, Agni, please not him—you can't take another, please, please, you can't take him too—) was dropped onto the deck. There was no steam from his breath, no rise of his chest, there was _nothing_.

The prince had collapsed next to him; on shaking, shivering knees, he choked out orders. It wasn't until his uncle swept in, tearfully clinging to him with a mounting relief, that the boy had finally passed out, safe for the first time that night. That had all been peripheral to her main focus, the thing that had sent her stumbling forward, past all the shocked faces and tentative words suggesting she wait inside.

Asa, at the behest of Zuko, was at Yuuto's side, already grabbing the base of his head and pressing two fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse. Daitan had scrambled over, silent as her knees gave out, pain shooting up as she dragged herself the last foot or so over.

"Is he…?" She'd croaked through blurry eyes.

Asa had looked up, eyes widening at her presence, and looked back down. He didn't answer. Another savage, bestial piece of her broke. Desperate, she'd reached with trembling fingers, and clasped his icy hand, skin slick to the touch.

The tips of his fingers were already blue, the same shade that dusted his lips. Without forethought, or much acknowledgment, heat flared through her ruined palms. Sparks curled and died against his frozen hand. In the end, it was useless, just more damage to herself.

Of course, Yuuto ended up being alright. Asa eventually pushed her aside with a professional sternness and administered basic CPR until he reflexively spit up the briny water that had settled in his lungs.

It was stupid to still be all worked up about it. She knew that much. But that sight, the waterlogged armor thumping on the deck as his head lolled with a distinct lack of expression, that stuck to her. It didn't _leave_. Much like the scent of fireworks on a summer's night. Another permanent sensation etched into the pages of her soul, another wound in the bindings of her being.

"He's definitely an odd one."

Yuuto's words, as bored and offhand as they were, snapped her out of that bleary haze and back into the fog smeared world. Adjusting minutely, blinking rapidly to clear the prickling feeling at the corner of her eyes, she scoffed.

"Yeah, well, what'd you expect from a banished kid?"

He was silent for a moment, thinking. Eventually, he answered, "I guess I don't know."

* * *

They didn't fix it. There was nothing to be salvaged beyond the few supplies that were left aboard. It wasn't exactly surprising since they didn't even know what went wrong in the first place. Still, Zuko ended the day with nothing more than the stinging sensation of failure. 

It was nighttime, the fog only thicker and heavier with the cooler air, and he remained a strictly stubborn force kept forcibly still on the dusty mat. At least he got his own tent. As he should've. 

After he wasted hours helping the Second Engineer, and even her placating smile grew strained with each sliver of sun lost, he'd stood in front of the dozen or so soldiers that had made it to shore and informed them that the plan remained unchanged. They would be going up the mountain tomorrow with what little they had. Most of them hadn't bothered to suppress their groans.

Even the Seaman and Pikeman Yuuto, who'd hung around them more often than the others, didn't look pleased. Though, it seemed that they had mostly been there for the Second Engineer. Still, the Pikeman had been shooting him odd looks that he staunchly ignored while he was working. It was of no concern to him.

Despite the flare of annoyance at the group's hesitance, a completely understandable one at that, Zuko said nothing. He let them have it. The mountain would be difficult and treacherous no matter their grousing. All that mattered was finding the Avatar.

Though, as he curled in closer, a dust coated blanket pulled over him, he had to admit it. The Avatar wouldn't be here. But it was a place to start, somewhere to find clues. The last confirmed Avatar was an airbender, and what better way to hunt than to learn the ins and outs of how your prey thought? Closing his eyes, surrendering to an inevitably tenuous sleep, Zuko took a breath and cleared his mind. He had a long day ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Engineers see a traumatized kid and ask if anyone's going to emotionally support them and not even wait for an answer.
> 
> Ahhhhh, we're making PROGRESS! I have all these huge arcs lined up and we've gotten into bigger ones nowww, I just planned way too much and went way too slow but anyways. That's all! Can't wait to get into it.


End file.
